This isn’t the life I thought I had designed. I am tired of it, yes I am. It leaves me with cotton mouth and a mind tired of repetition, repetition, repetition.
But.
Maybe this is like those boring forwards to beautiful stories. Maybe this is just some sort of acclimatization to stupefying heights. I can only believe so (:
I have, by practise of course, tended to lean, quite comfortably at that, on the murkier negativity cushion. But after all the looking for metaphors to describe your sorrier, shitier situation and harping about being a realist, hopefully something clicks in your brain and voila! You still don’t know the answers! You still have writers block! You still don’t believe in god! You're still sick of the island!
But.
You get it. you get that its no bloody point living in box of tears, that the past IS a different country and Indian passports don’t get you anywhere without a visa. So you take a different view point, something with an actual view, you know. So what if things scare you or if you cant travel everywhere. You don’t have to be any one else but you, and no one else deserves judgement on your life. The point I'm trying to make, I suppose, is instead of conceding that we’re all going to die someday, let me actually live today.
Yes.
(:
1 comment:
the 'seemingly undending' boring forward to the beautiful story
:)
Post a Comment