Skip to main content

Eating It Away.

I’ve felt this before. I’m holding on, but just barely. Strangers always seem to see right through me. Why don’t those closer to me notice? Have I blinded them with love? Does that mean it’s real? Does every tear you don’t see mean you love me?

Maybe you shouldn’t. Or maybe I should cry in front of everyone. I woke up at 4:31 AM, lost in a haze, with an insatiable hunger. A packet of sweet chili chips was in front of me, orange and shiny. I devoured it like a man dying of thirst in a desert with no water in sight. Then I fell back into a deep sleep.

I had a dream where I was being stalked. No one believed me, even when he stood right at my door, holding a black knife, wearing a red button-down shirt. His hair was black. 

I don’t want to find meaning in these things. But something is chasing me, and I fear I know who it is. These small, strange warnings have been trailing me all week. The fear of knowing that when he lifts the cap, it’s my face that I’ll see looking back.

I wake up hating my mouth because I didn’t brush my teeth after eating the chips. It’s awful. Even after brushing, the feeling lingers. I crunch and crunch, surrounded by junk. I’m eating my fears away. I think my teeth will give out before my mind does. They’ll rot away, just like my thoughts.

I had big ideas for what I’d write today. But tiptoeing around myself, around you, has made me forget who I am. Who I’ve ever been. Was I ever really me? What is this person I’ve become?

Note: I can't reply to comments because of some issues with my account. Thank you for them! Keep them coming :)

The movie I was planning on watching was: anjaam pathira. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Ominous Positivity: Reflecting on Korea Day

It's inevitable. The poetry and prose can only shield me from vulnerability for so long. Someone is bound to read through the poorly written literary devices and figure out the true meaning of all my works that I run away from by writing it (How presumptuous). Or no one cares.  The latter is the greater possibility. I find comfort in it, no one cares. And on some days, it's despair in how no one cares.  True to my character, I am going to switch the topic to another one. For today, I wish to reminisce on Korea Day and as much as I would love to say it started with me speaking Korean and having a wonderful day. It didn't. I sat on my glasses.  Having a power of -6 and allegedly even more, I can't move around without my glasses as there is a possibility I will fall into a ditch, the depth perception does lessen when you can't perceive objects, it turns out.  It was frustrating, the whole sitting on glasses debacle. I had never done it before. Out of character as I wou
Post a Comment
Read more

The Chase to Curfew.

My heart is out of my chest. It's in my throat, beating like it's struggling to stay alive. But it's more alive than ever. The curfew is at 7 PM. You know it, I know it. Everyone knows it. Especially the duos that linger at Martin Junction. Yet we all love to tease the limits of how far a body can run and make it in time. The urgency, the need, the frustration, the fulfillment. There’s something exhilarating about skirting the edge of danger. About feeling the adrenaline course through your veins as the clock ticks down. I reach out for it during exams, actively working towards it—to be sleep-deprived and see how far I can push myself and still dish out something legible. I always take that one fake quote in stride, "Edison built the electric bulb in a night," or something of that sort. It's fake for multiple reasons, the stealing allegations aside. But it brings me hope. And this hope is quite delusional when it’s not accompanied by action. You can call it pr
Post a Comment
Read more

Rainy Reflections.

What do I write today? I pondered for hours while doing mundane tasks. The sunlight stayed with me for a while, then it left, all alone, before the tube of electricity joined my thoughts. "Aren't you eating dinner?" asked my roommate. That's when I finally broke the silence I had condemned myself to until I wrote. I ate dinner and drank tea instead of coffee because I wanted to sleep earlier. I came back to my room, determined to write the third blog post. I couldn't give up so soon, could I? The sounds of doors and windows slamming against the walls, screeching laughter, and people running around seeped into my room. "It's cool outside, the rain, it's raining," said my roommate. I am not a huge fan of the rain. It always made me moody. I wasn't a hater either. Something in me whispered back to my roommate, "It's raining? It's raining!" I jumped up barefoot and ran out to feel the cool breeze against my face. My feet felt th
Post a Comment
Read more