Diary – 2020, September 24th, 4:18 IST

Dear Diary,

Another Wave Hits Me. I’ve Not Slept A Bit. Guess I Jinxed My Own Sleep. Guess It Was Never Fixed To Begin With. Nevertheless I Cannot Bear To Sleep In My Own Bed. It Suffocates Me. It’s Eating Me Up. So I Lay Under My Bed. I Am The Monster Under My Bed. The Cold Ground Is Much Warmer. The Roof Above Is Soothing. I Feel Nothing Anymore. And I Keep Crying. It Is My Only Comfort. It Is My Only Safe. I Need It. I Need To Cry, I Need To Write. Because If I Don’t, I’ll Kill Myself And I Do Not Wanna Die. I Need To Keep Writing. I Must Hold On. I Know This Feeling Will Pass. I’ve Been Through It Countless Times. But I Never Get Used To It. It Comes Crashing On My Shore And Washes All Over Me Like Flying Fire. It Hurts. Somewhere. Everywhere. I Feel Cold Still. So Much. I Feel Lonely. I Feel Stuck. I I Don’t Know What To Do. What To Do. I Feel Empty. I’m Empty. I’m Just So Lonely. I Wanna Be Alone. I Hate These People Around Me. They’re So Cold. They Make Me Feel Colder. It’s So Cold. I Wanna Go Home. I Just Wanna Go Home. I Am So Tired. I’m So Sick. I Hate To Be Like This. I Hate To Be This Miserable And Pathetic Self Of Myself. It Is So Scary. I’m So Scary Now. I’m Scared. Of Myself. Of Everything Around Me. There’s No Enough Dark To Sleep. There’s No Enough Light To Wake. There’s Nothing. Not Even Oblivion. It’s Such A Cold Empty. It’s Freezed. Like Frozen Time. But Rushing. Like Blood In My Veins. It’s Rushing Quick. It’s Going Away. And I’m Losing It. I Just Want It All To Be Over Soon. I Just Want This Bad Feeling To Pass Away Quickly. I Hate It So Much. It Hurts Like Nothing Else. And There’s No Heal. There’s No Healing For It. Nothing. Empty. Cold. I’m Cold, So Much. I’m Exhausted… I Can’t Go On. It’s Tiring. It’s A Bit Tiring. I’m Tired. I’m Feeling Like Just Laying On This Cold Floor, And Just Maybe, It’ll Make Me Warm. All Kinds. Not Kind. Unkind. It Feels Like That. Like There’s No One Kind. Like Everyone’s Unkind. But Not Really. Because Everyone’s Good. At Least My World. It’s Good. People. Different. It’s Nauseating Sometimes. It’s A Lot Of Confusion In My Head. I Cannot Think Much. I Cannot Do A Lot Of Things. Human. I’m Human. A Serenity In Being So. The Knowledge Of Knowing One Can Be Selfish Enough To Pleasure Oneself And Yet So Helpless When It Comes To Warmth. Can You Warm Yourself, Human? Can You? Guess We’re Not Really That Much Of Selves. Guess We’re Just And Not Just. It’s Weird. It’s Intriguing. It’s Calming. I’m Tired. Guess I’ll Sleep. I’ll Sleep Cold Dead. But I Live As I Breathe. I Survive. Human, You Know. Survive. Alive. Cold.


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