Here I am, back to writing some more. I am doused into terrible depression, having gone totally reclusive, not eating or even peeking out. All I want to do is sit still or probably sleep and in an un-ending continuation. But that is not it.
Neither I’m able to sleep, nor am I sitting still. Sketching now, writing then, and shooting thereafter… I’m anything but confined in motion; yet, I haven’t stepped out of my house even once in the last three days. Obviously, I skipped work. The fact that I-and-a-few-more-slogged-to-get-me-here was shoved at the topmost shelf where I would have to stretch my arm and fumble in space before my fingers brush past its edges.
I woke up this morning giggling of a dream. Strangely, the background was that of a place which was not a good stay in reality and had accelerated my downfall- although not before tossing me quite up… so up, that I lost balance. Instead of their grim faces, how they carried themselves most of the time, I saw them smiling. The house was done up well and there were colors all around which was in stark contrast to how their house was and most likely, still is. Not even once had I dreamt of him through all these years of our association and dissociation later; now I do, when there’s nothing but an awkward annoyance left.
Over ten days now, I am in denial mode. It started a weekend before. From updating status to texting, I reached out to people I could possibly to trigger some response and hence some distraction. Nothing worked- not even when I ended up annoying one of my contacts and then it went off to some other tangent. All patched up immediately, at least on the face of it or so I would like to believe, I’m beyond crying anymore. Like some eerie development, my domestic isn’t keeping well and hence on leave and there, it finished with a perfect house for void to rule.
Whether I have moved up even half a step or still brooding in past, only time to come will tell; for present, I’m afflicted even to emote. I don’t want to start any conversation- not even an impersonal one, not see anything new or for that matter anything at all. The only person seems worried out of it is my manager- who is no more my manager- officially. Not even once did he call up to ask about my (not) showing up at work. Every time a text arrived or a call made, he sounded anxious. There was nothing he could do- some silent exchange of words later, he would wish me well. I told him I was blogging. He rebuked me for not eating; yet, that didn’t affect my state of mind.
I don’t want to go vegetative again. I have been there long enough to not invite that unpleasant feeling all over again. The aftertaste is bitter than any poison. Atleast the latter kills you numbing your mind. I don’t know if my other alter has gone stronger again- one that had taken me down promising me a comfortable zone to live in. In my mind, I feel a battle going on constantly like a giant hub of electrical exchange. If that stops, it will result in doom. I feel all my energy being wringed off each of my cells. Numbness seems too inviting. What is feeding her essence?
I want to remain lost in thoughts with no one around to check on me. I don’t want to eat, I’m happy starving and stay in spoilt mood. Excepting, I don’t want any of it. I want to go out, meet people, laugh with them, live with them, and take equal amount of pain from some since not all would give pleasure in turn. I want to sing- and yes, I do; dance around how I’m doing in my dreams. It seems my subconscious mind is also fighting that same battle and maybe that’s why my dreams aren’t dark.
I want to scream hard and when I finish, total serenity should fill the backdrop as though this present never existed. A piece of miracle is all I need before I die my death in peace.