It is a Sunday, once again. Like before, I don't feel especially urgent on Sundays. Let everything settles down on its own.
I dreamed, like usual. I neglect to record down some dreams lately because they had been infiltrated by the leftover feelings. These feelings manifested as someone that I don't want to see nor hear from, for now.
It looks like I am getting further and further detached from those old moments. That is good, right? However, I can't shake this dreadful feeling that I am heading towards some unknown destination; a place where I can't move and speak.
And with every step I took away from the place where I was stuck on since four years ago, I can sense that I am getting less and less expressive. I know the reason why, this time.
I am starting to shut myself in, again.
There is this wild thought that keeps echoing, or a premonitions of some sorts. I don't know why, but I have a feeling that my death won't be from natural causes. It is a morbid thing.
It is Sunday. Time to dive into an alternate reality, a world where I can do what I want without anyone else watching and judging.
No comments:
Post a Comment