The senseless

It’s the little things
But sometimes also naturally, the big things
Or the non-existent things
Nonsense yet full of sense
Oh dear, what an awful mess we’ve made.

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A sunny disaster

Some mornings, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and sigh deeply. I cast a quick glance at the reflection and a million thoughts go through my head. At work I wonder how my colleagues can stand looking at me. I really should pull myself together. If not for myself, then at least for them. For the sake of the others, I should care more. I tell myself that every day. I try to make an effort. But the sleepless nights are just becoming longer, they keep on accumulating, and I’ve become an expert at telling what time it is based on the moonlight. Dawn comes earlier nowadays. I wonder if it’s okay to wear sunglasses inside?

Back to basics

It wasn’t supposed to be heartbreak. I was going to start writing happy thoughts, note down superlatives, exclamation marks, and joyous cries. It was all supposed to change. I remember being concerned. Could I possibly write about happiness? But then you convinced me. The you and I became something writeable. I wrapped my head around it and words flowed. Incited hope sparked creativity, daring to think that not only suffering leads to beautiful words put on paper. But isn’t it typical, as soon as one begins to understand and becomes accustomed to the newness of life, it all becomes yesterday’s news. And no one ever cares about old news in this fast spinning world of today. Yesterday is no longer top of mind, exclamation marked statements replaced with open-ended questions.

Is that a yes?
Perhaps a no?
Maybe?

I don’t know anymore. It just wasn’t supposed to be heartbreak. It just wasn’t…

To W

The thing which pained me the most was her honest reflection of her incapability to love. How she envied the ones who could feel, be it heartache or heartbeat. Her words stuck with me. Here I was in the middle of my heartbreak, feeling each stab, and there she was, feeling nothing, not even a pinch. I wondered what was worse. We stood separately, each representing a half of better to have loved and lost than to never having loved at all.
When put in context, my heartache became pitiful and petty. I had loved and I had lost. She had never loved yet she had lost it all. I wanted to try to write down some words of comfort for her but I don’t know if I can. I’m convinced that she will learn how to love one day. And I hope the universe compensates her by never having her lose anyone ever again.