There’s chattering all around , people talking about songs and life and love. Not a single conversation does my ear pick up. It rather hears the thoughts that’s flooding my mind. Oh ! Mind you the thoughts aren’t healthy, it’s like a viscous parasite that consumes you slowly and steadily without giving any hint of its existence. The only difference being , my body doesn’t get mutilated , my mind does.
Strange it is how in a room full of people I search for a corner to hid , strange it is how with every blink , tears roll down my cheeks , muffled screams and agony stories that never make its way to my words. Tired of saying “it’s okay” tired of adjusting, there I stand in the corner wanting to break my shackles, yet afraid to do so , with only fear that next time it won’t be the chains holding me back , rather bottles of elixirs that make a way for my escape. An escape not just from this utopia , but from the very body that binds me to moral obligations.
Amidst all this turmoil, I’m naive enough to hope there will be a day, where I am good enough to wear a pretty mask and walk around in the crowd, a day I’m strong enough to walk out of my cage with no fear , a day where I’m not bound to any entity, living or dead. Will I bear until the day is a reality, or does the easier option of collapsing allure me.
Thoughts that pop 🧠