How Long Was The Winter For?
THE SPRING
Day 01: Thursday, 19.34 p.m.
It's one of those days - Irises and Daffodils.
My cloud of melancholy cleared out for a while, and mellow rays of sunshine sneaked their way through. I keep waking up to greet the morning sun and the dewy grass.
Little street doggos, the most ardent workers I know of at night, finally hit their bed as I wear my hood and begin my walk.
What's the reason for this change, you may ask?
Well, I can't quite pin down a reason, but loads of books and few sweet people had a cardinal role to play.
I drown in the comfort of self-help books while my friend Duck despises them. She says,
"I would rather bury myself under dirt, instead of flipping the page of a self-help book."
She is a humorous soul. I know.
I once thought everything that happened around me -and to me- was owing to my hideous flaws. But, after reading the words of other writers who conquered their pain, I realized the world is in itself doomed, and on path to damnation.
I am just an insignificant speck of breeze, which makes the pain insignificant too.
So, why must I hold myself captive in the swaddle of gloom, when I can choose stillness, silence and nothingness. And maybe one day I can truly feel what it's like to be in bliss.
Because, it's all borrowed time anyway.
- Athena
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