Tired of everything that has been going on lately, and the numerous mundane conversations around you that speaks not directly to you, I have lost the inner voice that speaks only to myself, about all the the things I hold dear. Observations, if not solidified in permanence (anywhere), will only begin to toll on the mind, and therefore I become duller. Life has been reduced to post-it notes and to-do lists, as I keep track of what’s next, what to apply, what to work on, how much money do I need to sustain myself, who to contact – all matters of practicality. It is myself that I ignore most deeply, and I am sick of it.
Thus comes this bouts of sensitivity that affects our mood – but nevertheless without a name – we reduce it to terms such as PMS, tiredness of the world, hate – all universal but to ignore our inner faculties
perkaraperkara 