I don't know what it is about people and silences.
What is the point of having people around if they allow and encourage those villainous silences to exist.
If I wanted silence, I wouldn't be meeting or speaking to you, no?

Truly, I believe there's nothing I dislike more.
That creepy crawly darkness that breaks through the light.
That compels one to lose all and forces those dreaded words out of my mouth.
And then?

My mind speaks two sentences simultaneously.
Mixing them up. Allowing for neither to be understood.
No clear signal reaches any part of my body.

The head is a funny place. It takes a beating from the inside and the outside.
No thought is able to complete itself.
I wonder why my mouth won't shut down the same way.

I would like someone to go into my mind, clean out the mess and make it a better told for me to work with.

And, if you do a good job, my heart needs to be cleaned as well.

I lost my wallet today. It got stolen while I was on the bus. I lost every piece of identity I owned. Driving licence, pan card, bus pass.
When i realized it was gone, i felt myself disappear. Its strange that as anti-establishment as I would like to be, I also derive my entire identity from it.

But primarily, I am extremely angry. My temper continues to rise and become most harmful. I own a broken phone.

I'm on nobody's side, because nobody is on my side.
Quote. Unquote.

Even my self-pity is expressed in borrowed lines.

Truly, I am disappointing.

The toughest journey is the one that one is compelled to take inside oneself.
When I write that with even one bit of belief, I promise to stop, and take to chicken soup.

The toughest journey is in fact what it takes for me to move my neck, given that there seems to be a rod stuck between my back and my head, refusing to move or to be moved.

Speaking of not being moved, I'd like that. Especially with all the wars and the heat that seem to be increasing.

Life goes on. Or does it?
Boredom certainly does.

So there.
Square one to seventy-nine. To two hundred and eleven. To Square one.

Welcome back.

Did you know there were parts of my body only my husband could see?
Could, not even should.
What a magical world I live in.

If I don't marry, will those parts be forever invisible?