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