A change in the habit

So I was trying a new hair color to bring a change to myself. 

I don’t know if the color suited me but I did it anyway. I thought it would bring some changes in me. You know like those kinds of movies, where you do a makeover from head to toe after a break up. 

No, I didn’t have a break up. I was just tired of dealing with stuffs. So after I colored my hair, my mum said it wasn’t much of a attractive color. 

Within a month, the color faded. And now, it’s something between brown and red. It looks cool now. 

So did the change in my haircolor bring any changes in me? Nope. I don’t understand how a makeover can change people at all. All I know is I am sadder now, more distressed and more depressed. 

Although I put new color on my hair, I couldn’t actually bring a new color in my life. That’s how tge reality is. Without even trying to bring a change, you cannot expect it to change over the night. I did try to change, maybe the effort wasn’t worth it. 

My problem is, I don’t try hard enough. I quit easily. And then regret all my life for not continuing. I understand tge hardships, I also understand hardwork. What I don’t understand is even after giving my all, I remain at the end of the road, as the last person. Always losing. 

This is why I am depressed. I haven’t slept multiple nights. I haven’t been able to attend classes. I have even laid in the bed all day. I was at the verge of giving up. 

I don’t know if I will give up at last. I don’t know if I’ll step forward either. I’m just so tired of dealing with everything that I want to stop. I want to stop and look at the sun and bathe in it’s sunlight. I want to stand at the corner of the mountain and scream with all my heart. I just want to sit in a corner and cry my heart out. I also want to throw everything away, run on the beach with naked feet and consume myself in the sea water. I want to touch the clouds at the cliff of a mountain or just stand watching the sunset. 

I also want to fight with all my might. I just want a strong hand to pull me through it all. A hand to wipe my tears and tell me that I’m strong. A hand that can quench all the darkness with a simple smile. I’m tired. But I want to fly too. 

Advertisements
Unreal

They say ghosts aren’t real.

It’s not them wandering around on the surface of earth.

Ghosts are monsters living within us.

Ghosts are preditors feeding on innocense.

Ghosts are us, facading to be something we are not.

 

The ghosts are the past we left behind, as we hold on to them, they crumble up to pull us back into the darkness.

They clutch us in the strength of their claws. 

While we live, we forget what is real and what is unreal. We give in to our inner ghosts, inner darkness and then hope for someone to rescue us.

Can we be saved from this unreal image that clutch us to our own nightmares?