.a written note.

Tonight is one of those nights, one of those times when I meet a side of myself that I am habituated to keep hiding, sometimes even from myself. One of those nights when I simply know, when I have a feeling that it's going to be a sleepless night. Sleepless in a real sense. So much that an unknown energy comes in me and drags me out of bed, makes me write. It is as if I am getting wrapped by the curtains of solitude in a dark spacious hall. A hall only to let enter some wild winds through its large glass windows, wide open, but somehow I do not hear anything apart from the scary mysterious noise of the winds from the world outside. It is either that the town is already asleep or there is nothing worth listening to, at all. The thin layers of solitude, without the colour grey or black, surround me one after the other, making themselves feel thin and light but uncontrollable still. This is one of those times when I am able to think of this darkness around me as some rare shad

I am moving forward and there are always going to be turns trying to confuse and stop me from where I want to reach. Behind everything to lose and to let go of, the Sun shines. It is the mind that wanders and wanders with a combination of colours making the day feel chaotic. I do not understand these colours for I never really met them. With a bell creating noise all over the verandas, we would play a game of Jolly. We would draw a mark on our palms before we reached school in order not to get a punch on our back. That was the rule. Marking our palms, punching and getting punched by the people we thought were the closest of friends, if left empty. A punch we called fun. A mark they called black. Perhaps the heart is in search of that punch. Over again. In search of the truth, these naked eyes. Knowing the reason why I am here, surrounded by the breeze treating my cheeks in its own way, I want to reach the place I see with or without my eyes open. And let it kill me later.