Shadows Of Youth Are Shy Kissers

The Best Psychiatrist Ever

This began my life as the resident mock-therapist of my school. It was during this time that I realised that psychoanalysis didn't have much practical use; it failed in helping people. Or at least that's what someone on some 20 page article said. I indulged in learning. Hours after hours reading through procedure of modern therapy, practical philosophies like Stoicism,   learned about meditation techniques and much more.

I thought of ways in which I could use these ideas. I thought of people and their issues. But in retrospect, I could say that my attempts were superficial. My knowledge was without depth. I can see that now.

You see, acquiring knowledge is good. I encourage everyone who does so. But not using that knowledge is being a lazy egoistic academic. I was a lazy egoistic academic.

In short, there was no one (at least no one I could find) who had such problems. No one appeared sad. Even if they did, they would come back jolly and smiling a few minutes later. Everyone who even remotely came under the rain, was ushered to the help of friends. The friends listened and made him or her feel well. Then they sent him or her their own way to chit & chat and gossip.

Some would go out and roam about for hours. Boys did that a lot. Most girls just went to each other's homes and hung out. They would spend money on dresses and food, would appear to be the most generous
To their companions, would giggle and joke away. So much pomp and show. Only to easily sallow the chaos of adolescence. Many of them talked behind each other's back yet went out on excursions as if family friends.

Maybe I was just being pessimistic. Maybe I was just pissed that there was no one to hear my healing words.

Even if I did manage to catch a person or two who required some talk-help, they would get bored at my every sentence. Close friends got angry and complained frankly, "Stop your wise banter. My mood is upset enough to hear you." That would break anyone's heart. Some mock-therapists would sign their retirement slips. But I wouldn't dare do so. After all, I had finally gotten hold of the meaning of life. I kept on my efforts, despite all.

Everything may have appeared dull, but I still looked for light.

Once I remember talking nonsense with my closest friend, let's call him Han, because he used to be all flirty and outgoing like Han Solo from Star Wars (My nerdiness leaks out on random intervals).
Han asked me, "Why do you keep up with the psychology stuff? To be honest, virtually no one listens to you."
"See you! Asking all serious questions like me! I am just so proud!" I did a sarcastic mock tear wipe.
"Seriously though, why do you keep doing it?"
"Why? Maybe because I'm just a loner who can't communicate normally with people. Maybe this is the only way I could truly interact with people" I let out a voluminous laughter.
I had only answered, you see, to quieten Han. Honestly, even I didn't know what was at the end of that question. He too laughed , perhaps compulsively, at that reply.

As time passes, I am again & again reminded of that answer. To me now, it appears as if I was close to the correct answer with my words. Perhaps, I just wanted to connect with other people.

Well, hell is other people, I would console myself whenever the above thought passed through my head. Satre was quite an influence on me.

Still, I continued my mock practice. Still I used all the healing words at my disposal. Still I did what I thought was the purpose of my life.

And I did become good at it, eventually. See consistency is much more important than talent. Or that's what I often told the lonely boys who had recently joined the gym. I had amassed a small following of sorts. Mostly consisting of guys though, the ones who fed on those Sigma male and dark psychology stuff. I had no affinity to those genres. In hindsight, I think it was more of the popularity of those two trends that boosted my follower-ship, rather than, you know, my own advice being good.

I decided to ride the high wave, anyways. I just talked & talked and they listened & listened. I can clearly see now that they were lonely & wanted human connection. They wanted to believe in something. The same went for me. I also wanted to believe in my ability to heal.

Suffice to say, most of my advice and words were not heartfelt. They were superficial. They were useless. Han would often console me when I talked to him later on about this time. He would say, "It's alright. At least your intentions were good." I would nod to him. But deep down both of us knew that our actions led to salvation, not intentions.