Letters to Life: Letters written to a lost life

Unanswered questions 3

dear life,
do you ever felt like dreaming while you are actually awake? i do, every day.

i have lost control over me. i have lost a hold of my feelings. i feel thirsty. i feel my throat drying. i am dying of the thirst. i am dying of the pain in there, in my throat. i keep looking for water and after an eternity of quench, i find a sea. so blinded by the thirst i am that without a thought, i dive into the sea. now, i am sinking. deep. deeper. but the hurt is still lingering. even the depth of the sea can not pacify my thirst. but then I realise. my throat is not hurting of the thirst. it is hurting from all those words pushed out by it, all those words that could never make it past my lips, all those words that i have swallowed back. my throat is hurting because of all my unsaid words struggling for an escape. but it is too late now. i am sinking.

it feels like i have been thrown in a cold prison. it is dark all around. all black. not a ray of sunlight or glow of moonlight. no twinkle of stars. no orange of flames. no green of oceans. no gray of smoke. no blue of sorrow. only black. or is it that i am blinded by dark? just as the thought arises, i get a thrust into a galaxy of colours. but i am still blinded. blinded by the light, by the colours. a spark of golden. sapphire swirling into emerald. magenta conflating with thistle. lilac fading into lavender. but i am too blinded to see all this labyrinth and raveling of light and colours before my eyes. then i realise that i am neither blinded by darkness nor by brightness. i am blinded by the desire of things unknown.

one morning i woke up deaf. not the slightest whisper i could hear. neither laughter nor cries. neither a swish nor a tinkle. all the sounds faded into themselves and were carried away by the breeze. then a hole fulminated and a deafening voice filled my ears. one sound blending into another. first came the symphony of mellifluous tintinnabulation fused with a ringing sound followed by a song and then, in the flick of a second, came all the plangent cacophonies of shrieks, shrills, cries that dissolved both melodies and silence within them. And then the comprehension settled in my brain. neither the silence was deafening nor the noise. but my ears were too tired to hear the outcome of my pain and chaos anymore.

sometimes i sit, enervated, on my own, wondering, 'what do i truly deserve?' i am caught between options and i do not know which one is better. a grain or a myriad? true pain or illusion of pleasure? eternal thirst and numbness or deep ocean and wounds? ethereal brightness or soothing darkness? ephemeral happiness or plethora of sorrow? a ripple of wetness or a zephyr of dryness? an armour against attacks or exhaustion from wars? a serein or a cataclysm?

finding an escape from an abode lying between fantasy and reality.