Blue is my colour…

A blast of tearing air, a blinding light from the slit of curtains, a feeling of being left behind…

As I gained consciousness reality peppered like stab of blades. I’d gone to sleep just after 12 at midnight and oh! was it 12 noon at which I’m waking? Fear not, it was just 8 in the morning but the sun shone like it was at its zenith – the rays that had rendered moon desolate was now rendering me stark. That feeling of being lost, of being inconsolable, of being forgotten, of being pushed away, of being haunted by seclusion…

How do you do when your fears don’t leave you nor do the nightmares? What do you do when you can’t live but also can’t die. Do you think of that sound that feels like coming to engulf you, that sound when flights take off. But that wasn’t a flight, okay? Only a train. Strange isn’t it? Stranger still it is when you are weighed down by those who had promised to live by your side till the big crunch.

But then another train comes, filling the air with sound of metal rolling on metal. That unstatic sound that tells you life goes on, you should move on.

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