The last few weeks have been a blur. The usual daily grind seasoned with many other contingent issues have kept me away from my pen. I have missed the blank. I have missed the Pensieve. Have missed writing to myself.


I have come to believe now that everybody goes through this phase of self-hatred (too strong), maybe…self-disgust? (Too demeaning)…self-judgmental phase (yes. More or less). You somehow start hating everything around you; stay painlessly mum for eternity not responding to anybody. Your own conscience becomes your sworn foe. All you long for is respite. A time out.  From hating yourself and staying hopelessly aloof.


It feels like, all the negativity in the cosmos is storming to engulf you and you for some reason welcome it with open arms. Whether time has turned its back on you or you are falling short somewhere suddenly, the dilemma deepens. You wish a lot, you long for a lot more. Nothing seems to budge.


Hope, they say, should be high. But then it starts creeping towards neutrality. IT’S JUST SO EERILY NOISY EVERYWHERE. Silencing it, has become a life’s worth a wish.


“Hope” things change, for good!



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