Running out of things to say

Day 140

I am scared that I will forget how happiness felt like. That I will never feel the same way again. Even if good times come, I will fail to recognize them. What if I fight them off mistaking them for something else?

Day 141

All I want is for things to go back to when they made sense.

Day 145

So this is how it’s going down, huh?

Day 149

We’re still here.

I thought I would’ve found a way to get out of this labyrinth by now. We’re still waiting. For someone or something to take away the pain of life. Days are passing by like hours. I don’t even notice when a week starts or ends. It's like clockwork. Some people call me a machine at work. They call me alien. Or a robot. I took leave the other day and this guy said he didn’t notice because I am too silent. They ask me do you work all the time to avoid talking to people. Why are you like this? How can someone go through an entire day without talking to anyone? This guy said, “I have never seen too much silence in one person”.

Sometimes I wonder what they think about me. Do they hate me because I don’t talk to them much? Or am I invisible to them? Makes me think, have I always been like this? Have I always been this silent? Like were my social skills always this bad? Is it social anxiety? Or is it that I just don’t want to talk?

I don’t know. I don’t want to think anymore. I’d rather die than go on another spiral. Oh, I told him, I bury myself in work to escape my own thoughts. I don’t trust what’s brewing in there. Nothing good ever comes out of there. I don’t want it to remind me of the silence waiting for me when I return home from work. The emptiness of feeling insignificant. Being a side character in my own life.

I put my WhatsApp about as ‘drowning’. Drowning in thoughts? Drowning in life? Barely surviving? I don’t know. My manager saw this and he offered help. He says I can talk to him about anything. Now even I don’t want to talk to myself. How do I talk to you? As I said, I don’t trust my feelings anymore. Can you imagine that?

All these emotions happening at split-second intervals. Happiness, sadness, loneliness, confusion, anger, regrets, guilt, and you don’t know if it’s real. And when you’re not sure if it’s real, how do you stop it? So you run away.

I’m tired man. I just want to lie down somewhere, without having to think for a few minutes. Just lie down there and acknowledge my existence. My feelings, and take care of myself. To fall in love with who I am again.

Hold on to the pieces.

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മധുരയും കൃഷ്ണനും കലാമും

മധുരം മധുരൈ. ഇത് എല്ലാ പ്രാവശ്യവും പോലെ ഒരു സാധാ യാത്ര ആയിരുന്നില്ല. ഒരുപാട് നല്ല അനുഭവങ്ങൾ തന്ന , ഒരു ലോ ബഡ്ജറ്റ് ട്രിപ്പ്‌ എന്ന് വേണേൽ പറയാം.കുട്ടിക്കാലം തൊട്ടേ ഉള്ളിലുള്ള ആഗ്രഹമാണ് ഒറ്റയ്ക്ക്ഒരു യാത്ര. എന്നാൽ അതിനിയും നീണ്ടു പോകുന്നു. പുസ്തകങ്ങൾ കൊണ്ട് നമ്മുക്ക് അറിവ് നേടാനാവുമായിരിക്കും, എന്നാൽ ചുറ്റിലും ഒന്ന് ശ്രദ്ധിച്ചു നോക്കി ഒരു നടത്തം നടന്നാൽ ഒരുപാട് കാഴ്ചകളായിരിക്കും നിങ്ങളെ കാത്തിരിക്കുന്നത്. അത് തന്നെ ആണ് ഈ ലോകത്തിലെ ഏറ്റവും നല്ല യൂണിവേഴ്സിറ്റി , അവിടെ കിട്ടുന്നത് വില കൊടുത്ത് വാങ്ങാൻ കഴിയില്ല എന്നൊരു വ്യത്യാസം മാത്രം. :"നിക്ക് നിക്ക് ..!!" :"എന്തേയ്!? :"കാര്യം പറയാതെ കാട് കയറല്ലെന്റെ ചങ്ങായി ....!" :"മറന്നു വെറുപ്പിക്കുന്നില്ല ...കാര്യത്തിലേക്ക് കടക്കാം ." വെറുപ്പിക്കുന്ന ക്ലാസ്സ്‌ ടൈമിൽ ഞാൻ ഫ്രണ്ട് അജ്വദിനോട് മധുരയ്ക്ക് കോളേജിന്റെ മുന്നിലെ കിളികൊല്ലൂർ റെയിൽവേ സ്റ്റേഷനിൽ നിന്ന് തന്നെ ഒരു പാസ്സന്ജർ ട്രെയിൻ ഉള്ള കാര്യം പറഞ്ഞു ....വീക്കെൻഡ് ആണ് വരുന്നെ ...വെറുതെ ഹോസ്റ്റലിൽ ചടചിരിക്കുന്നതിലും നല്ലത് എവിടേക്കെങ്...

An unfinished poem.

I wake up and it's raining. It has been raining since yesterday midnight The night at which we told things we never told each other When we both stood at the edge of the cliff of our fires, Vulnerable. Alarm reminds me it's an hour past midnight and I should probably get some sleep. I say rain reminds me of you. You say I scare you sometimes by telling these kinda things. I sigh. Yes. My thoughts can be a little bit scary sometimes, Deep. You send me poems written on amber papers. Poems. Words. Is that what binds us? Poems about souls, men women holding cigarettes, Me, you, us. I say I wish I could hear you read 'em You want to know why I don't know. Silence. I admit I'm a hopeless romantic. You say that may make my life painful And you're drained of love and may break hearts. I remember Augustus Waters, I say It'd be a privilege. You say sometimes you don't like who you are. I say neither do I. Maybe it's not ...

Cadence of suffering

I am in pieces. I can't think of anything good to do. I look into all these peoples faces and I wonder how they just go with them the flow. This has to get better. You lose pieces of your life every once in a while. You can either find a new piece or you can live a whole miserable, tedious life trying to retrieve that lost piece. Life is a maze that you'll never be able to find your way out from. Love is a riddle that you'll never be able to find an answer for. Yet you run, trying to find that exit door, looking for answers of rhetorical questions. You know the path you chose is gonna get you hurt. But you can't turn back now because what else is there? We've all been there. That phase in life when you feel like everything is falling apart. That there's isn't a single thing you can do to make it alright. Stephen Hawking said, ”However bad life may seem, there's always something you can do to succeed at it. Where ther...

voices in my head

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