birthdays, a tapestry of contrasts that paints the canvas with strokes of mourning and blessing alike
for some it's a mourning of adulthood, a funeral of the happy days that lie in the graveyard of the memories , a pitiful dirage that echoes through the corridors of lost innocence, where happiness lies hidden beneath the weight of adulthood’s cloak.
for some it's a blessing, a day to celebrate, a day to bask in the acquired wisdom, a day to revel in the triumphs of survival, a feast of memories that dance in the flickering candlelight of the passing years
i find myself curled up in the middle, in a murky twilight, where the shadows of the past cling to my soul, and the unknown future looms with a menacing ambiguity.
It's like a cacophany of the dead and the alive, a haunting melody thet mimics the chambers of my heart.
adulthood, to me, feels like a dark room with windows tightly sealed, barricaded against the onslaught of time, a room that whispers promises of wisdom, yet shrouds itself in an unsettling ambiguity
It's a terrifying symphony where the notes of fear create an uncanny tune
Does the room hold flowers waiting to unfurl its petals or it is merely a void like countless others - a desolate expanse of nothingness?
The dichotomy stays and i find myself standing at the threshold, grappling with the paradox of embracing the unknown while clutching onto the fragments of a simpler past.
