Medicine: Year 1

Top of the roof to ya

I got up early. Checked my cellphone, grabbed a shawl by my bed and wrapped it around me. I had left the window open as I dozed off late last night and my face was very cold. I rubbed it with my hands, slipped on my slippers and quietly went out. Just needed some fresh air

I was hoping that the doors to the roof of my building weren’t locked because I seriously needed to see some clear sky. And viola they weren’t. I went on and sat on cold concrete. This is my secret place. It’s close to heart

I used to take my journal with me when I went to my secret spot at home, top stairs facing a locked door and the place had a damp smell I love. This place also smells something like that. It is the concrete or cement I guess. But now I just come when I want, without a paper or a pen. Some feelings are too deep and personal to be recorded and left on for someone to read after you die. That’s why I write a journal. I wanna leave a solid mark for someone I truly love. But these emotions are too simple and too fragile for anyone’s eyes. I keep them to myself.

So, I sat. Inhaling the wind of the busy city while it was clean, before the city woke up. I was happy. Those little bubbles of happiness were forming in my heart and popping at the very same time. Words were slowly buzzing at the back of my mind. It wasn’t an uneasy feeling. It felt good.

Half an hour I sat. Thinking of all sorts of people and all sorts of memories. Pain makes me who I am.. I need it to feel myself or I’ll drift far far away. But all it takes is one word to make me happy, one gust of wind to forget all the sorrows and one pure gesture to break in all those walls.

I could see the roads and the shops and the huge institution past my building as I sat..with a content feeling nervously nudging into my heart. Happiness? Ahan. Slightly marred, yes. It has been a while I was just so truly happy. But it’s okay. Raw happiness seems unreal, you know. Besides we human can never be really happy. We will always whine for one thing or the other. Look at me. Rolling eyes

So after the traffic started to build up and the horns started blowing and the slight tinge of smoke filled the air as the sun came out to glare at me pointedly, I got up and slowly started to walk down the stairs. One of those days and times when I am torn between so many emotions. A large part of me is happy but that small afraid region just holds me back. So I just went back into my room before my roommates found out and closed the windows next to my bed. Closed my eyes and drifted again.

Boy do I stink at writing now

 

 

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