Emptiness.
Before things get down and serious, just want to issue a small apology for delaying the word posts, did not had any "feel" to write. Though a million things are running through the innermost deepest sectors in the mind of mine. Even at this moment, the feel is not here. And I guess that's what this post is all about. But who cares right?
A void. An emptiness. Nothing. I've not felt happy for more than 5 minutes straight these days. Not sad. Not overjoyed , not depressed. Not excited, no tears. Nothing. That big ass smile that you see me wearing everyday? Tell me it's genuine. Tell me it's fake. Tell me it's something. Because I guess that I'm so used to wearing this mask, that I can no longer tell the truth or the fake behind it.
I'm so lost. Lost under this imaginary vast open sea that I am in. Each passing day is a torture. Each living passing day is a torture. Tell me a reason why am I holding on, to something as precious and as worthless as life. Tell me. Just one. Tell one to the man who has a voice of nothing. Where his voice apparently means a thousand words but no meaning. Hence nothing should be given to him. Not a whisper, not a speech, not even a thought. Just as a castaway or a person banished to out of town. Whose presence basically means his absence. And whose absence means nothing.
I'm basically crapping again. Scratch whatever I said about feeling nothing. I am feeling anger as of this moment. Angry at the fact that this post is ridiculous and I cannot write. Why the hell do I want to be afucking journalist? Question is, why let a castaway dream of a saviour when no one is looking for him?
Out of topic, changed tumblr link. It's now c-staway
A void. An emptiness. Nothing. I've not felt happy for more than 5 minutes straight these days. Not sad. Not overjoyed , not depressed. Not excited, no tears. Nothing. That big ass smile that you see me wearing everyday? Tell me it's genuine. Tell me it's fake. Tell me it's something. Because I guess that I'm so used to wearing this mask, that I can no longer tell the truth or the fake behind it.
I'm so lost. Lost under this imaginary vast open sea that I am in. Each passing day is a torture. Each living passing day is a torture. Tell me a reason why am I holding on, to something as precious and as worthless as life. Tell me. Just one. Tell one to the man who has a voice of nothing. Where his voice apparently means a thousand words but no meaning. Hence nothing should be given to him. Not a whisper, not a speech, not even a thought. Just as a castaway or a person banished to out of town. Whose presence basically means his absence. And whose absence means nothing.
I'm basically crapping again. Scratch whatever I said about feeling nothing. I am feeling anger as of this moment. Angry at the fact that this post is ridiculous and I cannot write. Why the hell do I want to be a
Out of topic, changed tumblr link. It's now c-staway
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