What : Peace is a trick
Why : Not yet a trickster
When : 9.03 am
Something is distracting me and I could even hear it whispering in my head. May I know, if this is reality? If it is, how and when am I going to bloom, if I continue like this? The day I’m doomed? After I planted a tomb in my room? Tell me.
At 2 am, I’ve been sitting, lying, tossing, rolling on my Josephine for hours till I could see everything, everywhere turned twisted, grey and cold. When I tried closing my eyes, lights in the eyes turned wild, till it drove my head to the middle of nowhere, to think of a plan, on how to shatter my null-skull without being rescued.
My grey-capsule is dripping silence. I could hear it and it freezes my feet.
The deeper I go, the more I have a need to leave. Breathe leave, it is. Like a corpse diving to the six feet underground.
Goodnight and Goodbye!