Sunday, May 05, 2013

The Demons Came Calling

So much has happened. And so much is happening. Yet, the words fail me.

Remember the times when nothing changed? Words flowed like water then. So easy, so flawless, so happy.

Writing was always my respite, like the best friend you turn to for some impartial advice. Just being itself, listening, quiet, and pointing me to the answers that were there all along. The answers I was too blinded by rage to see, too blurry through my tears to spot. Writing calmed me down. Wiped all my tears, swallowed my rage. And despite having a best friend to turn to, I gave up on writing for myself.

Why? Because there was never the time. Or correction, I never made the time. When you write for a living, it becomes difficult to come home and do it all over again, albeit for yourself. So wrong. So, SO wrong.

Now, I look at the tops of miniscule trucks and even smaller cars as they speed by. Such a racket they cause, even up on the 16th floor, where I live.

But sometimes, even the honking and the incessant traffic is welcome. It helps quell the sounds of the demons in my own mind. When all is chaotic within you, it helps to have even more chaos outside.

But one thing I wish I hadn't learned over the last two months - You're all alone in the world; fighting your demons, battling the insecurities, making peace with the loneliness. There's no one in the world for you. You aren't for anyone. You live alone. You die alone.

The sooner you assimilate this weird little truth of life, the better off you'll be.

1 comment:

Sreejit said...

Hey Moo,
Great to see you write again. Was missing your blog.