Being a 'me'

There is a pleasure in passing through pathless woods, a sweet pain in getting lost; a pleasant thought of getting away. Leaving everything behind and escaping unnoticed, as if dreaming.  Enjoying the acquaintance of complete strangers and for once letting go truly because there will be none to judge you, call you or remind you of the seemingly endless duties.

Patiently enjoying the company of one’s self because in that moment nothing matters.  You can speak when you want to, avoid what you wish to and conduct your heart with peace.  Sitting loud and lone like a distant sea shore, devoid of tensions and pains. Smiling at self control and weeping for one’s desire. And when it’s all calm and clean you can go back to being a ‘me’.

Momina.

Crazy Ramblings #2

Sometimes when I get too angry or tired or sad or just unsatisfied, I go in the kitchen and I open the door of the freezer and stand in front of it. I just stand there and make an effort to not think and concentrate on breathing. And at one point I realize that breathing in the cold freezer air is difficult because it hits your throat in a weird way. I don’t know why but it happens every time and the thought just hits me. Even when I know it's going to pop into my mind when I stand in front of the freezer, it still strikes me. And when we are angry or tired or sad or just unsatisfied, we just need these type of weird thoughts to tell us that it doesn’t matter. Everything is a random silly thing that somehow makes sense and it isn’t really important to understand it. I think I get high on the cold freezer air. I am probably crazy. I know I am.

Momina.

In The Middle Of Nowhere

I am not asleep but then I am not awake either. I am hanging somewhere in the middle of it all waiting for either one to envelop me so I can pursue something of use. Either go drowning in the world of my dreams or wake enough to manage to do something productive.  The conversation around me is hushed to murmurs yet at times it's so loud I can make out whole pieces of gossip. I weave in my own scenarios with every new piece of conversation beading a very long story, of course I cannot make head or tails out of it but it's just there; something I can hold on to while I tumble between consciousness and unconsciousness. Back and forth. And back and forth…

I can perceive that I am not getting anywhere with this state of coma but I am senseless; I can feel thoughts surround me in a haphazard fashion but I don’t have the energy to worry about them, or do they just flip out of my grip? The lights around my eyes blink in contrast until I am pretty sure they'd blind me. I have lost that absurd story of mine to hold on to and I might be rolling towards one of my goals though the ride seems endless I will get there eventually, hopefully in my right mind but till then I am useless and in the middle of nowhere (and just to make sure I am alone, there is no Muriel or courage the dog or even Eustace.)

Momina.