These are my moments. The moments when I am cared for. When I am visible to myself. When I feel my wishes viably. And for the time being…I am more important than anyone else for myself. I am self consumed. I am besotted. I can not think about anything else, but my paroxysm. I can not help it. Maybe it is the long neglected self in me that is making amends on my behalf. I walk on the air, like a cloud. But I walk heavy. Fully conscious of each and every vignette of my body.
No… I can not always enjoy it. It is hard on me. Hard on my limbs. Pain scorching on them. And on my heart as well. I grow irritable and berserk. I feel like tearing things away. I could stretch a book on you and cry like mad. I can laugh and not cease even if you tore your hair apart. I can cry till you laid down all your energies to console me. But I won’t do it… yet I can not stop doing so. I am pensive. Dubious about others, I even doubt myself. How fair is it? I don’t know. All that I know is that unlike the usual time, I can not tame it... I often feel hapless. It is like a wave, which rises to dissolve. And then lets the calm prevail.