Under Self Arrest

You don't need to bother
Once I wish to be lost



For few weeks, I have been seeding negative ideas on myself. Constantly acknowledging the fact that this wouldn't go on further. Perhaps it's the rambling child inside of me. Protesting every bit to attain the last pleasure. Perhaps it's just me, finally giving up on my own being - the ironic aftermath of the view I have on everything else.

With years finally catching up on my state, the uncertainty of things begin to proceed to the final reveal.

It's not a matter of being discontented.

I understand the need to recoil. The compulsion to regain memories of yourself. It is in consideration for the construction. Though fumbling skies might be the only obstacle.

I have been planning for Texas or India, as diverse as they seem to be from each other. Good food and companion. I want to know how it feels to be in touch with unfamiliarity again. I want to be somewhere, with no one I can disassociate myself with. I want to sleep where no one could see me reeling through the night. I want to be touched by the air - to slowly tremble from the gesture.