A constantly working mind

Remember Shasha once saying that for once I need to do something for myself. Right now I'm the last person I'm thinking of doing anything for. I want to curl up in a corner and stare into darkness and at the wall. I know I won't see a thing but it's just the thought of having my eyes open wide and the concrete feeling of the wall hitting them back that's appealing. That will be my moment with myself, however strange. But here I am, writing for H and then for K (which will be indirectly for me) and stressing about getting up at 7 AM again to go with S for his work! All the while thinking what mum will have to say when she wakes up to find me still awake. Where am I doing anything for myself or thinking about what I want to do? I really do want to curl up in the corner and sleep.

Got to be hard when you cannot say no. 

Why?

Where is my willpower? I used to pride myself for my determination at one point. I used to be so sure of myself - even in the mistakes I'd make. But now everything seems like such a big deal. My cool and unaffected self is long gone. Everything feels like it's within an inch of my face. I snap, I cry, I give up.

Why?

Untouched

There are a few things that deserve to or need to remain untouched. Friendship from younger days is one of them. I have friendship that is unaffected by all the ugliness. My college friends. Here's to many more years together! Cheers!!

That smell

Strange post to restart blogging with. But, times are strange. People are stranger. Anyway, got to flush out thoughts, too.

Went to a funeral today. I realise that of late it's the same thing that keeps playing on my mind. The smell. It harrows me to the point that I just want to run away. It's the smell of the sheet covering the body mixed with incense sticks.

The presence of that smell hasn't left me. Ever since Papa passed away. Partly because a few days after his funeral, I woke up from sleep gasping. I had been dreaming of his funeral pyre; and the smoke had entered my nostrils. It had felt much too real. As I woke up I kept repeating, 'The wood is still burning'. But I could only whisper that and my sisters sleeping next to me didn't even stir.

Now at any funeral I can look at the deceased person's body, even touch it, but it's that smell!