There is this uncomfortability that I’m feeling. (Don’t I love making up new words here😄). It just won’t let me be. I’ve tried writing about my day and how it went down, but no, something was missing. I just couldn’t feel me in the drafts i’ve discarded.
So I write this thing making me not write. This newness mixed with oldness inside my heart. Its like I’m having low key labor pains in my heart. Like some part of me wants to come out or be given birth to, but there is no midwife for it. So we struggle alone.
I love how the above can’t be understood easily. Or at all. Because that’s exactly how I’m feeling. Un-understandable.
Its a feeling of being out of my comfort zone. Totally. Like nowadays I say yes to things that make me anxious. I sweat my whole way to there. I barely sleep as my mind turns over possible scenarios.
Then I wake up. I hate loose ends. But there seem to be so many in my life right now. People i can’t black-and-white who they are or where we are. Speaking of black and white, my life has been gray for a really long time now. Dullness mixed with not seeing the next few steps I’m supposed to take.
But now I have to deal with colors. Bright colors. Deep shades of yellows, luminous greens and pink, shouting orange and blood red. And I’m not used to them. I love white only. Clarity. I’ve never known how to exist in rainbows. How to be easy and move with these blindingly bright colors as they move from one to the other. As if my life is an artist’s playground.
Whichever god has taken over my life of late, must be a mischievous one. I wake up worrying about X, i sleep having found a 123 to fantasize about. Its like the lakes buried under my soul are returning to reclaim their place.
My mind feels lost. Which has shocked it to its core. For a thinker like her, she’s used to over thinking everything until issues take their own shape and form that look nothing like the original thought. Now she’s just there. Stunned by weird environments. Curious on what these invaders who are not forceful want with her. She isn’t thinking. But she isn’t not thinking too.
So I try to make sense of this. And I just can’t. What comes after this? What is given birth to from whatever this is?Who do I become as the moving parts in me get reassembled? Everyday seems to have its own itinerary. Its like some program I wasn’t made aware of is happening inside there. I don’t want to know what is. I’m just curious on what next thing I’m saying yes to.