After All I Am A Daughter
"Today also the work is not done" my father spoke through phone from Coimbatore in a sad ton..
Two nights ago, as I was walking along the road of weirdness, I saw something normal. It was so normal that it made me feel weird. How can something so normal be on the road of weirdness? That was the question that questioned my normalness. Now what was it? I seem to have forgotten the unforgettable.
As I sat down and got ready to panic, as my body adjusted itself to being anxious and paranoid, I realised I had no reason to do any of those things. But I knew I was going to do it anyway. So I panicked. About what? You may ask and so I may answer that I didn’t really know about what. So I decided to delve into the deepest abyss of my tortured psyche, the same psyche that is making me write this pointlessly depressive piece of literature. But I had to write it. Even if it means I have to beat around the proverbial bush.
No words can actually describe the world I am living in right now because words are not good enough to do so. And also because I am not living in any world right now, except the real world which I don’t really consider because I don’t really interact with anyone in it. But then again I also live in a world right inside my head. Where? Right there where it never stays and then I don’t want it to stay. And now this constant, useless rambling is ringing in my head like a bee ringing in a box of plastic.
Truly the imagery is suffocating my thoughts like a killer choking his victim. Yes. That is it. That was what I saw on the road of weirdness. A killer choking his victim. A perfectly normal thing to do, for a killer that is. I heave a sigh of relief since I was successfully able recollect the lost train of thought. A train which wasn’t really too late but now this journey, which was long and arduous in its own way is over before it even began and that was mighty sad.
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http://www.veethi.com/articles/the-long-world-article-1625.htm