I Don't Know What to Write!

I don’t know what to write. I’ve never been this blank before today, but I know something has to be written and so I’m going to try and find the reason behind the psychedelic frame of my mind.

My sense of humor has become a very sorry state of affairs.  I’m no longer ‘Miss Effervescence’. The old me comes back in flashes every now and then. I try clutching her wrists and no matter how badly I wish to grab it and retain her, they slip away like water from my hand. 

Why does every new beginning come from an end? Why do we have to give up on something to gain something else? Why can’t we just get the best of all worlds? Why do all good things come with an expiry date? Why do I have no answer to any of these ‘Whys’?

I feel like I’ve reached the autumn of my adolescence, dull and depressing.  I need a kick start, I need a direction. I forgot to set long-term goals for myself in an attempt to make my life seem glittery and logical in yesterday and today, but what about tomorrow? I need new things to do, new missions to accomplish, new mountains to climb, and maybe a new pair of binoculars to find these mountains.

Every night that I rest myself in my bed, I close my eyes to meet someone special in my dreams.  Someone I haven’t seen in reality in a long long time, someone I’ve missed a lot lately. She walks up to me each night and whispers the same words into my ears. She tells me I’ve been living in an illusion since a long time now, she says I need to wake up. She shakes me up to break my slumber and so I wake up into another morning of my life. Just to find myself lying on the same bed of illusion that I’d slept on, unchanged and untouched. That girl I meet every night is a reflection of the old me, I miss her. I want her back.

The search is on, I might locate the lost beam in me in days to come but the transition period is so slow. It bores me to death. Life under transformation is like being trapped under the body of a robot. So when this robot sits down to write something, she doesn’t know what to write.

I don’t know what I’ve written, it honestly makes no sense to me. Maybe, I should write when I finally know what to write.