Other times it is very sore.
When you find it hard to wake up one morning, just because you have nothing important in your mind, except that one single thought that eats you from inside you have reached a stage in life that you wouldn't have wanted to end up in.
We do so many things, learn so many stuff and meet so many people. It all ends up to be irrelevant. I was taught how to count numbers and solve problems, yet I find these very useless right now. Why didn't they ever teach me real discipline. I feel as if my character self is breaking down into tiny little pieces of ideas and memories. I am desperately trying to hold on and to make sense of my life, but I continuously fail.
There is just emptiness. Melancholy sets in. For brief moments in my life the basin within me floods and for just one instance in time I feel fulfilled. I created memories from these moments. Memories that knock on the door of my existential self. They try to wake me up again, but melancholy always wins in the end.
I have now learnt to live in it and wait.
I wait for change and for the rainfall to soak me.
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