I am thinking something,
Lying little tipsy, about to fall asleep in maximum of two minutes I’m sure, but it’s been 4 minutes that I have been lost in my deep thoughts and now that I see the pattern forming, I woke up to write because it all made so much sense. But strangely when my fingers started typing, I couldn’t think a word and now I think I was half slept. I shouldn’t have waken up.
It feels like I have lost the purpose of my life somewhere. I don’t see any particular reason to live. There is nothing to be hopeful about. It’s like I’m living dead, letting days pass, waiting for death.
I don’t cry. I miss that. I’ve just learnt to bear the pain of the wound that I don’t know if someday will get dressed.
I’ve come so far from people whom I had never realized were my loved ones.
I came here with a lot of dreams. It doesn’t feel good to see all the bubbles burst gradually day by day.
23rd February, 2020
A piece I wrote when I was at my lowest while being back in Bangalore.