it's crazy

how I feel an irrepressible urge to thump the piano keys right now at almost 5am.

how much I wish to have a cigarette between my fingers and to inhale the offending smoke into my lungs.

how I think I will die if I go to sleep at night.

that I can go on typing, typing, and typing all sorts of random bullcrap just because I feel like it.

how little I am asking for out of life these days. No luxuries, just the BARE essentials.

how I can still keep my emotions in check even though inside I am close to bursting with queries, doubts and fear.



It's mad, mad, mad that I am not behaving like myself anymore but the lack of control over how I feel and react makes me feel like myself.

In truth, nothing in this world is going out of whack. Except for me.

I just feel like waking him up and asking him if I am still me.