A list of metaphors that have become too relatable lately:
- Living these days feels like walking on a landmine. One wrong step could make everything explode. You always have to be on your toes. Always on the edge.I hate myself for taking the joy of comfortable conversations and even more comfortable silences for granted.
- Handling too much at once feels like trying to arrange pieces paper, and someone has switched on the fan. And you’re helplessly trying to save every bit, but failing.
- Every conversation I now have feels like taking a test I did not study for. I’m really exhausted of always having to be on guard.
- It also feels like I’m always holding my breath. Literally, I’m not. But emotionally, perhaps. The feeling is like in a horror film, when it reaches the climax and you’re a bundle of nerves, you know something horrific is about to happen, you’re on the edge of your seat, that singular moment when time seems to pause, that is how I feel everyday.
- Not a metaphor: Past a certain age, every new person you meet will be good to you, as long as they’re having their needs met.
December is here folks and my hands are starting to get cold throughout the day. And like every year I do nothing about it but to let them be. Winter is my favourite season. I have perfectly romanticised it in my head (thanks to novels and poems) and somehow started believing that something unbelievably magical will happen to me someday in the future, in some cold snowy December.
Until then, I accrue tiny joys from strolling markets and basking in the Christmas cheer. Watching trees all lit up, tiny Santas and plastic snowflakes displayed in plastic wrappings in all their colours.
There is a young couple sipping kulhad chai from a nearby stall, breathing out fog and occasionally letting the little one have a sip too. The little one, all bundled in scarves and sweaters shudders with delight at the taste of the warm sweetness. The couple smiles too.
I move on, smiling from within.
Unrelated thought I needed to share:
Here is a quote from this phenomenal show called Fleabag that resonated so much with me, I had trouble believing it was a show.
Merry Christmas guys, in case I log in next year now.
(I won’t though. Always do a final retrospective post before every new year, remember?)
(wow writing this entire piece suddenly brightened my mood, now that I realise this is done, I feel f*cked again.)