I was meaning to write. But I could not bring myself to write. To write is a tedious task. But to others it comes very very naturally. To me, at times, it comes naturally. Other times, I have to force it. It is of course quite gruesome and grueling. But then again, I could not find anything to write about. People, even my friends find something to talk about. I can't. I find it difficult. To talk about things. These things. Life in general. Have you ever gone against the tide. I do only talk abstract. And most of the times, I just write abstract. Abstract. It defines us. It goes on. It is surreal. I like surreal. Real is... well, mundane at times.
Monday, February 10, 2014
Have you ever been surrounded by despair. Like the world is melting away. Time is just slipping through your fingers. And all the things that you thought you would do are no more there to be done. Or rather, they are there to be done; but you do not have the ability to do them. Like life is meaningless. You know you were... or rather you could do great things. But you just cannot for the life of you, do those things. Have you were been surrounded by despair like that?