a self-destructive journal

There it is again, untimely at this hour of the day, when the sun refuses to set by 6pm, and the curtains still cant withhold its golden glory. You’d think her retreat of slumber would fulfill its purpose, but sadly, daylight had other plans.

Its the 3^rd of June, Eid is a day after. On the last day of Ramazan, she woke up 4 hours prior to breaking her fast, in the hopes she wouldn't have to bear the thirst for too long. But surely, its not the thirst that’s consuming her at the moment. Its loneliness.

She’s got friends, she’s got plenty people. genuinely close people. But, she doesn’t have a friend here, like the one she used to bear the sight of after waking up. After being force fed a relationship of enforced good and honesty, losing it still causes her to spiral down a drain of absolute nothingness.

She’s got things on her mind she’d like to talk about, as any human would. They’re from the very personal columns of her brain and heart. Except, she assumes no friend would just understand. she looks at people knowing each other for years still together, smiles and laughter in sync. Similar mentalities, unspoken consent of trust. She used to have those, but then life demanded courage to leave the underlying excess of toxicity behind.

Its one of the bravest things she’s done- to chose loneliness. She could’ve gone back to her life of being pressed under facades and fake intentions, but at least someone would be approaching her themselves, trying to leech out every thought that’s embedded in the corroded corners of her naive, little brain.

6:26 pm. she thinks about everyone she’s spoken to since she made that choice. She’s tried looking for that friendship, that closure in people she never knew, without realizing she was doing so. She wants to apologize to anyone’s heart she’s mistakenly broken. She was so consumed in her own, she didn’t feel it fair to consider anyones else’s place in life, above her own. Years of compromising yourself result in the most savage acts of rebellion. You become heartless, un bothered. you become indifferent. You maintain the fact that anyone else’s problems, are not yours to deal with anymore.

They absolutely ruin you for it. The lack of a reciprocating effort towards those people when you’re investing in yourself is self destructive. You think you’ll come out a better, healthier person for the ones who matter, but its too late. They've already grown tired of you being on your own and not trying. They’ve questioned your character and created these self assumed, suffocating bubbles. They’ve all popped around you, releasing this pungent stench of an inadequate presence in their life on your part.

6:33 pm. “I tried, to make myself whole again. I tried to fill those spaces punctured with a pretentious love. But here I am, reminded of the inadequacy.”, she ponders.

 Oh, human existence. When will it ever be enough?