I told myself I’d have to save this post for a time when I feel the way I felt when I wrote it: very low. Otherwise, it wouldn’t feel authentic.
It is, after all, about depressive sleep.
That time is now.
On Some Days
Growing attached to the state of oblivion
Getting lost in the lack of thoughts
Maintaining the right to remain unresponsive
To all of life’s cunningness, twists and plots.
On some days, the world is unappealing,
And people appear aimless; senile.
Society’s demands that one must smile
Don’t affect those who’ve been non-existent for a while