And It’s Past The Third Day

​I am living in parts this week: constantly aware of the breath I take and mostly unsure which meal I miss. Words – my most intimate ally – desert me when I need them most on my tongue or fingertips. Everything I know doesn’t seem so intimate again. Suddenly, I feel like a reincarnated child who doesn’t know how to be a child any longer. Life is an intimate strangeness. But unlike that child, I’m incurious: a dog’s bark and a car horn hold the same blandness. The night is a temporal repose – the dot between the end and beginning of sameness. Period. Life this week is a little dying. And as I write this, it’s past the third day. 

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12 thoughts on “And It’s Past The Third Day

  1. I feel like I know exactly what you’re speaking about. It’s an angst, a restlessness, almost existential, that leaves you feeling dissatisfied with everything. I could be wrong, but that’s what it reminded me of. I don’t think I’ve ever found the words to paint a picture of it, but you have, and it’s so lovely and short and poignant. Bravo!

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  2. Wow. Your words drew me in, gently. I’ve never been able to give words to the occasional emptiness that engulfs me due to unfulfilled dreams; but u have. And your words are beautiful.
    Thank you.

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  3. Wow. Your words drew me in, gently. I’ve never been able to give words to the occasional emptiness that engulfs me due to unfulfilled dreams; but you have, albeit unwittingly. And your words are beautiful.
    Thank you.

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  4. Umar Turaki perhaps took the words out of my mouth.
    I got sick and I picked up the exact feeling you described. I felt like an alien inspecting a strange environment. When people talk, their words would float lazily, refusing to disintegrate and I would find myself losing all interest in life and getting dissatified with everything.
    I felt alone, like I was the only person to feel this “detachment”, until I found this a few days after. You can imagine my reaction.
    I’ll be always grateful to this blog. 😀

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