It is back, that dull sensation. A gallimaufry of gray colors. And things were not at place. I am not at ease. The first thought is to get rid of this, to escape from this harsh rain again. The black clouds are seem to be hovering over my head now, and the castles that I built in the air are about to topple. And all those valuable pedestals seems to be falling down. These portraits of mine seems to fade. Now I've lost grip to what I hold dear. I've lost control of the present. My life is in disarray.
I couldn't remember the last time I had those warmth, those sensational honest smile. The marks and signs of a happy life. The plight of my days seems to haunt me now and then. I've tried to run off course, but what is that attempt? So foolish. I succumb. The irony, that's the only choice.
Yes I admit that I became more vulnerable these days, lacking of everything. My mind and my heart are not contented. So how do I make it less bitter? My acts are all in vain, it dismount to the opposite, the more sugar that I add, the more bitter it taste.
Such tremendous torture. The pain and agony it conflicted. But I realize and I wonder whether this is just another process of healing.