Just to get it out of the system.
Picture this.
A sudden tight slap that rings through the head and goes through the body like an electric shock.
You stare transfixed at yourself. You wonder what catalyst may have caused you to become so terribly insensitive. And all those criticisms from the past come hurling back like ghosts.
"You turn your back at those who love you the most"
"You have become so robotic"
"How can you be so selfish?"
"You are our biggest mistake"
"I love you, and thats not easy"
"Tui khub dure achish"
The songs dont help. Neither does the alcohol.
Even work is no longer a good enough escape route.
The light is back - the one at the end of the tunnel - that signal of the coming train
I have learned to care less. And I'm scared to not care at all. I dont want to be that girl. And I cant seem to stop in this journey.
Like a zombie. Who walks. And walks. And walks. Towards that one light that pulls it. That looks like the end of the road.
I want to run into your arms Ma. But I fear the judgement.
I want to hug you Bapi. Even this black sheep of your world.
Why dont the fucking songs help?
I hate mondays the most. Its not lethargy that keeps me to this job.
I wait for the 2 days of the week to meet you - and I realise strangled I make you feel in those two days.
Its useless to run in a long desert. The mirage is so spread out that you almost pray for quicksand.
I miss Dorothy. I wish she was a person. Thank God she isnt - atleast I wont hurt her.
Ok.
Buck up.
Sit up. Straighten that spine.
List down the TTD. Focus.
1. Need Job.
2. Need Home.
3. Need money
4. Need oxygen
Bye
Picture this.
A sudden tight slap that rings through the head and goes through the body like an electric shock.
You stare transfixed at yourself. You wonder what catalyst may have caused you to become so terribly insensitive. And all those criticisms from the past come hurling back like ghosts.
"You turn your back at those who love you the most"
"You have become so robotic"
"How can you be so selfish?"
"You are our biggest mistake"
"I love you, and thats not easy"
"Tui khub dure achish"
The songs dont help. Neither does the alcohol.
Even work is no longer a good enough escape route.
The light is back - the one at the end of the tunnel - that signal of the coming train
I have learned to care less. And I'm scared to not care at all. I dont want to be that girl. And I cant seem to stop in this journey.
Like a zombie. Who walks. And walks. And walks. Towards that one light that pulls it. That looks like the end of the road.
I want to run into your arms Ma. But I fear the judgement.
I want to hug you Bapi. Even this black sheep of your world.
Why dont the fucking songs help?
I hate mondays the most. Its not lethargy that keeps me to this job.
I wait for the 2 days of the week to meet you - and I realise strangled I make you feel in those two days.
Its useless to run in a long desert. The mirage is so spread out that you almost pray for quicksand.
I miss Dorothy. I wish she was a person. Thank God she isnt - atleast I wont hurt her.
Ok.
Buck up.
Sit up. Straighten that spine.
List down the TTD. Focus.
1. Need Job.
2. Need Home.
3. Need money
4. Need oxygen
Bye
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