Its a strange sense of numbness. I wish i could write a song on it.
Infact I wish I could just write.
Its a task these days- to put together in complete sentences what I want to. Its a task to think straight. And when I think of what is bothering me so much, My mind feels blank, like memories have been erased. erased in a horrible way so bits and pieces loom behind, still stuck in corners, refusing to get out, but the large parts are deleted.
I hate finality. Theres something about it I just cannot accept. My relations with people in general are never complete, final or full. Theres always clutter in my brain which is quite ironic if one would consider how controlling i can usually want to be. Sometimes, i want to hold that brain of mine and squeeze it so hard that the thoughts should not be there go pouring out. I wish it was physically possible to plant thoughts out of the mind.
Other times, I just want to think about these things even more. There is a certain sense of pleasure one can derive out of pain. A friend had once told me long back- Pain is the worst addiction and your capable. I should have listened. When i look inside, I feel pain, a lot of it.
But on the surface there is a numbness that has set in. its almost like plastic. On the surface there is a lot laughter and shallow thoughts. But there was a time, I knew the deeper ones that lay within. And now there is a time when I avoid anything that lies within.
Since when did I become so comfortable running away from my very own self? Comfortable would actually be the wrong word. But habitual is probably correct.
You think so hard, you go crazy and when you still cannot sort it out, you ignore it. This is basic human nature- atleast thats what a lot of people belittle it as. But something is bothering me.
Something intangible, something that is an accumulation of more than one feeling, of more than one thought. I cannot pin point what it really is.
Until I cant figure that out, I guess I will just continue running away.
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