Some times a situation digs up all your anxieties and place them against each other in a ring, until it takes shape of a hell in a cell match.
Imagine all your insecurities, guilt, and minutest mistakes, all scampering in a tight space.
It’s an intimidating image and you are afraid of the chaos that’s about to stir any moment.
Your first instinct is to run away. When you can’t, you look for a hand to pull you out.
And when you can’t find one, your mind goes in self-defense mode and mentally amputes you from reality, like a rotting leg.
I reached that point around 10 days back and I was floating in my own home like I’m not a person. I didn’t even know what I felt.
I was hollow.
But my family noticed and made me realize I look disoriented.
Words would pass right through me.
I couldn’t process.
I couldn’t listen.
So, I decided to take a break. I spend this time with myself and books.
I found a piece of charcoal from a bag reserved for barbeque. And sketched this..
And then ruined it..
I might work on it later sometime with a clear head, which I still don’t have.
I have started working on my 2nd poetry collection.
I already have a raw first draft of 120 poems ready, I’m sure I will discard half of them in first edit. My sis insisted I take it slow and don’t overwhelm myself.
The guilt of wasting time is the last thing I want to kill me.
Just trying to stay put. Trying not to lose it, while doing something on my own pace.
There isn’t much we can do, can we?
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