You know the feeling of being lost in the middle of the namely known path you were dreaming of for 5 years straight? Whether it’s a yes or a no, let me tell you how I see things. That of course only if you have 2 minutes to spare and the patience to listen to my nagging.. Scratch that I mean reading it. (The nagging is still there unfortunately for you.)

Picture taken from the movie Arrival (2016) — Directed by Denis Villeneuve

I’m a girl who dreams, rather too much sometimes. I create images of my own and try to swim in that refreshing air of imagination. I take a break from people surrounding me and I dive in a sea of words coloring the darkness that my eyes see once closed. I draw lines, fill them with paint sometimes, dance in the middle of that mist and dream. The soundtracks are played in my head like that little mockingbird that wouldn’t close his beak trying to fill the silence of the empty forest.

I don’t know which one is emptiest, my heart or my mind. Or rather, I would say which one is more frightening; which one drove me to be the confusing soul I turned out to be. I didn’t plan it to be this way. I think I lost control over my own actions. I foisted a lot of things upon myself, preferring lethal camouflage that hides only my true self.

Now, I don’t know what woke me up from that vivid woolgathering. I can blame the yellow walls of my new room or the dark blue sheets of my bed. It also might be that dreamcatcher hanging in the knob of my window room. Whenever I try to look up to the picturesque view happening outside, the single-eyed toy is looking at me, blaming me for all the time it saw me wasting. Little does it know, I solemnly feel like a drunken reveling skint; the courtesy of cramped thoughts lacking eurhythmy.

I keep swallowing my saliva, shutting my scripted ideas. I look up to people, looking for wisdom and affinity. I spend rather a lot of time trying to grasp what they are doing. I actually search more for the why. I grew to be the asocial being I am; repressing the introvert self and silencing the cause. I admit that sometimes I may look like a caveman trying to understand how to use technology. Albeit, all I kept living for was the understanding of the human nature.

Human interactions fascinate my mind, as if the exactitude of the play has an irreproachable symphony; while each character creates endless oxymoronic tenets.

“Forsooth, mankind is uncanny by nature”; is what I keep telling my nonchalant soul.

Strange familiar. I am the wandering spirit that lingered on after my body shell.

Strange familiar. I am the wandering spirit that lingered on after my body shell.