It is Monday, 29th.
The sun has set and the sky has slowly gone dark. The night clouds come slowly into focus as the day begins the journey into the next. The cold hangs in the air as the temperature settles across the land. It maintains the semblance of winter and yet, it is not… A complimentary nod to mental dilemmas and identity crisis.
This has been coming on for awhile, beginning with the silent night of the day past as the house fell asleep. My mind woke up spoke to me regarding the things I had been trying to forget. Things I had carefully packaged and slotted into the 3″ by 6″ little rectangle box space present in the confines of my mental faculty. And it was in this Library of forgotten, suppressed thoughts the package sprung a leak, and the thoughts oozed out in its delicate manner. Subjected to the silent noise, I close my eyes and steady my breathing. The noise maintains it’s incoherence however, steadily growing in intensity and urgency that I retreat to bed for the night in hopes that when my head kisses my pillow, I could find some solace in dreams. I lay mistaken.
So I embrace it. I opened my arms like I was greeting a long lost love and embraced the mental chaos. And as i did, the incoherence begin to arrange themselves to coherent sentences. The statements revolve around me, enchanted in a dance that takes my feet and makes them move. So I dance along to the melancholy tunes and watch as realisation sits in it’s set throne.
I am growing up.
And it hurts.