The one thing I've always liked about the winter chill is the silence it inflicts. Despite the mundane voices that keep surrounding me time and again, I'm able to find this so called 'Comfort in Silence'.
Lately , life has been this cocoon of opportunitites and difficulties alike. It's like waking up from the grave , in which you'd been lying dead since ever, and then suddenly finding yourself dancing in a marriage procession. I am not to be blamed, if I don't make sense right now, because for once I don't want to.
It's never happened to me earlier, that I wanted to put in a line and I couldn't think of one. This is what frightens me the most. The fact that I'm unable to make out why this is happening is all the more pinching. It's like a needle in your digestive system . You know it's there, you can't stop eating, and the pain wouldn't stop either.
No, I'm not depressed, and I'm not pretending to be some self introspecting intellectual either, I know I'm not that type, and people only know it better. I'm not here to write stories, but frankly. if I come to writing my own, I know it'll be quite interesting.
Before my half sensitive senses provoke me to add something sillier to this post, I'll pull the plug on my phonetic mind. A request to the counted two- three who might read this. Please don't discuss this post with me.
Lately , life has been this cocoon of opportunitites and difficulties alike. It's like waking up from the grave , in which you'd been lying dead since ever, and then suddenly finding yourself dancing in a marriage procession. I am not to be blamed, if I don't make sense right now, because for once I don't want to.
It's never happened to me earlier, that I wanted to put in a line and I couldn't think of one. This is what frightens me the most. The fact that I'm unable to make out why this is happening is all the more pinching. It's like a needle in your digestive system . You know it's there, you can't stop eating, and the pain wouldn't stop either.
No, I'm not depressed, and I'm not pretending to be some self introspecting intellectual either, I know I'm not that type, and people only know it better. I'm not here to write stories, but frankly. if I come to writing my own, I know it'll be quite interesting.
Before my half sensitive senses provoke me to add something sillier to this post, I'll pull the plug on my phonetic mind. A request to the counted two- three who might read this. Please don't discuss this post with me.
No comments:
Post a Comment