A life is counted by moments, not by years.
Today was one of those days when I feel nothing, nothing at all, a total numbness. I feel so numb that I can hear silence in my head. These are the days when I question my existence. Each of these days is like a blank page in my diary, a page for which no one cares whether it is there or not. If I tear off all these blank pages from the dairy, I will be left with pages I have truly lived.
Today I want to feel pain, a shear pain which will wake me up from this numbness. No one feels more alive than a man out of breath swimming for shore. He knows he exists and he fights for it. Today I am not sure whether I will fight for my existence or not because I am unsure about my own existence.
Every week when I call my mother, she would ask me about what happened last week? Every time my answer would be “Nothing”. For a long time nothing has happened to my life. It is just stagnant. May be I am numb because I am stagnant.
What makes us feel alive? Why do you work – to live next day; what will you do tomorrow - work again to live next day. Are we living today just to live tomorrow? Is the whole point of living now come down to “just living” or “sustaining tomorrow”. When did we stopped living and started filling diaries with blank pages. I do not want to look back in 40 years and say all I did was survived last 40 years.
I am sorry, I am just too depressed.
I am sorry, I am just too depressed.
