It's funny how excessive fun can suck the fun out of fun. believe me, it is happening right now with me. i had begun to believe that believing in myself would lead to some sort of relief from teh burdens of my own unfulfilled expectations for myself and hence give me some joy and fun. however, a sudden turn of event has opened my eyes to a whole new darkness where my eyes were better closed. now i have a tag of being fun, and yet no fun to be with. i feel incaptivated in this state of ambiguity and feel like i am heading into oblivion at the speed of light. i am falling from my own grace and the worst infliction on my soul is that i cannot even see it - teh darkness remember? so, here i am rearing to fly, with my wings clipped and the sky taunting me with all its glory. teh fun is gone, the interest is gone, the inclination is gone. i cannot even seek help now; i see no one.

Humble beginnings - sordid ahead

I was born off a star - quite literally, fallen from the skies, into this world of misery and labour. I call myself enslaved to the path no one dares take because i believe that i have a fixation for the unknown, an obsession promulgated by my forefathers to the only path - i think. Although, it's merely a fixation now, an unfulfilled fantasy.

i feel drawn and sick going about the dull monotony of a routine - somehow, as much as i hate it, i am already pulverised in this grind. i feel like i am running in circles, each time on the same route, at the same time of the day, in the same vicinity.

Everyday i feel like the world is on my shoulders and i have to run and take it to the nearest hospital to get it treated of its maladies. Somehow, the disease seem to have gone in too far to be cured. I understand that - i suffer. May be i am debilitate and the rest of the world is in good shape. May be it's the other way round.