Closed Doors
Book in Hand: Maskerade by Terry Pratchett
Song in Mind: Run by Kitchie Nadal
A couple of days back, I was sitting on an unmade bed, overheated and overstressed. And more than that, there was also a weird sensation churning inside my chest. No amount of sporadic coughing could dislodge it. I thought it was my lunch stuck inside there somewhere, blocking an artery or something. Man, I thought I was having a heart attack!
But when I realized what it was, I could've welcomed a heart attack more. No kidding. The realization hit me so hard, I had to gasp. Maybe to make sure that oxygen would reach my brains --- hoping it would activate a defense mechanism which could save me.
God, I can't be. Couldn't be. I refuse to be. I'm not completely stupid, I'm pretty sure, but geez, I could be pretty convincing sometimes.
Technically, I've not yet -- fallen. But so near the edge that the darkness could just slither up one hand to pull me in and I'd be lost. The first time that happened, I didn't know better and I even volunteered for the plunge. Then heaven and hell followed; I just don't think I can handle something like that again, at least for now. When I've resurfaced some time ago, I've closed all the doors and hid the key somewhere. I want to be very, very far from the precipice.
I know it was only a couple of entries ago when I've said I was letting ago of that first, ehrm, mistake. But I've actually admitted defeat years ago. What I let go of was just shadows of what once was hope. Mists of memories and uncalled for and much unrealized dreams. It was just a bit of spring cleaning. Did that soul cleansing set me up for this? Now, I'm wondering whether it's been here all along and it was just waiting for me to let go. But damn if I take the jump. No more freaking way.
Sorry, boy. Yeah, I know stormy days are coming. But the door's closed and you can't come in. Dare you wait in the rain?
Song in Mind: Run by Kitchie Nadal
A couple of days back, I was sitting on an unmade bed, overheated and overstressed. And more than that, there was also a weird sensation churning inside my chest. No amount of sporadic coughing could dislodge it. I thought it was my lunch stuck inside there somewhere, blocking an artery or something. Man, I thought I was having a heart attack!
But when I realized what it was, I could've welcomed a heart attack more. No kidding. The realization hit me so hard, I had to gasp. Maybe to make sure that oxygen would reach my brains --- hoping it would activate a defense mechanism which could save me.
God, I can't be. Couldn't be. I refuse to be. I'm not completely stupid, I'm pretty sure, but geez, I could be pretty convincing sometimes.
Technically, I've not yet -- fallen. But so near the edge that the darkness could just slither up one hand to pull me in and I'd be lost. The first time that happened, I didn't know better and I even volunteered for the plunge. Then heaven and hell followed; I just don't think I can handle something like that again, at least for now. When I've resurfaced some time ago, I've closed all the doors and hid the key somewhere. I want to be very, very far from the precipice.
I know it was only a couple of entries ago when I've said I was letting ago of that first, ehrm, mistake. But I've actually admitted defeat years ago. What I let go of was just shadows of what once was hope. Mists of memories and uncalled for and much unrealized dreams. It was just a bit of spring cleaning. Did that soul cleansing set me up for this? Now, I'm wondering whether it's been here all along and it was just waiting for me to let go. But damn if I take the jump. No more freaking way.
Sorry, boy. Yeah, I know stormy days are coming. But the door's closed and you can't come in. Dare you wait in the rain?
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