It feels bad. Nothing else
It was another long day. Tiring and heavy. Got up early, roamed around the city for stuff. Came back home with my arms screaming and feet cursing. But.. I don’t mind. It was not so bad. Kind of fun when you take it as a journal in your brain and write as the smoke from the vehicles streaks your lungs.. =P
I am back home now. I have washed my face and freed my feet. I am leaning back and am breathing deep. Vacant. I am vacant. But not sad or unhappy. That counts. That counts a lot
I was reading Robert Frost on my cell last night, after reading a chapter from The Vampire Lestat (Anne Rice). It was so calm. Sitting deep into my sofa. Switching the lights off. Mom with her folks in the hall. I have nothing to say. Really. I am blank. And I just wanna hear someone talking and I would just listen and listen and listen and blend in the darkness and vanish. I have never felt like this.. And the dreams have turned strange too..
Anyways.. Last night I was listening to Josh Groban and talking to people in my head. I just know that it’s going to be so hard for me to fall in love. Just a stupid thought. I know how to block my feelings. If I die.. My body won’t be there in the tunnels.. nor at the bottom of a cliff.. it would be on a shore,
I trust the waters you know.. I trust the winds that blow to and fro…
The heart can think of no devotion
Greater than being shore to ocean –
Holding the curve of one position,
Counting an endless repetition.
(Poem: ‘Devotion’ by Robert Frost)