Balderdash Thoughts

“Love heeds not caste nor sleep a broken bed, I went in search of love, and lost myself”

…….@October, wrote ages ago

Well. Things effect. They have been affecting. They do effect. And they will be affecting us. No matter how much we run, what justifications we give ourselves, confront them, face them, let them go, let them be, change evolve modify amend.. They will and they shall, affect.

How.. ironic. How hypocritical.. When I just state something as if it is a concrete fact. As if we know what’s going on, what has been happening to us and what might, possibly,happen. I feel guilty even saying stuff like this…

Here I am. Once again. Sitting in my room. Fighting off pains and worries that pin me down. Am I hurt? No. Am I in pain? No. In distress? Turmoil? No no. Not even happiness. Not even satisfaction and content. A state of utter and complete… surrender.

It is not a war I wage. It is not some big thing I wanna achieve. It’s just.. I have let my hair down. They are free and wild over my shoulders. I don’t care if my haircut sucks. I don’t care of they say I look good. I know that I don’t know what the hell is happening and where the hell am I now. What journey awaits. How many people to lose. I don’t know. I just. don’t.

I already lost half of what I had in my mind. I wrote a return letter to some character that only exists in my mind (will post soon) and I cooked some tales of two and failed writing a sijo and acrostic and retrieved a box from my hidden cupboard that says ‘Weird things’ and added a small blue button I found under my pillow. Did a few Sudoku. All because lights were out for an hour and I had no choice but to hear Mom say what a pathetic daughter I turn out to be sometimes. I am talking crap now.

Well. I have nothing to say, I have nothing to explain I am standing in a position of to be or not to be. It feels as if stuff is hanging by a thin silk thread and snap I have no idea what might happen. I have dark circles under my eyes because of severe lack of sleep at night. Why? I have a cup of strong tea every night at 11 and who the hell can sleep after that dark muck.

For the first time in my life I am not that eager to read a book or watch a movie or think hard at something. As I walk in my house, I feel so ordinary. A part of me snapped last week, and I have no darned wish to retrieve it. Learned the art of letting go the hard way. Now it has just become a habit. I just have to wait for night so insomnia crawls up and I am forced to really spilt apart

Or I’d better just vomit

(Title: Hindi proverb in ‘Twenty One Tales’ Rudyard Kipling)

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