The days are a reflection of each other, one days passes and the next approaches but when you think about the past, its all a blur, simple succession, just a conversion of minutes into hours and hours into days. Sometimes it feels like that lull before the storm or being the eternal optimist that I am, autumn before spring. The excitement, that surprise element seems to have evaporated out of life and the only piece of conversation I have is how bitchy the other flat mate of mine is. I don’t even feel happy about spending those two hours at Landmark the other day, a treat I gave myself when I was totally outraged with life.
The worst part is, earlier I use to read books/blogs and get inspired by them to write something of my own, I had so much to share that ideas buzzed in my head. Now the condition is entirely opposite, there is happiness in my voice, but a hint of boredom too, the smile on my face is accompanied by a lameness of expression and if this trend continues, I’ll lose all my friends- they’d be shit bored being with me.
Currently, am bored of all the things I love: books, people, sarcasm.