This all will be set in stone; I am aware of that. I was warned about all of it, but no one has ever told me I will be in a silent hill walk-through with all the perpetual fogs around me. I woke up today and realized I have been listening to Luna by Smashing Pumpkins lately, as if the stones in my stomach died and reincarnated as butterflies. And it's been churning, and I've been writing this since 4am in the morning, underneath the purple-ish sky.
I have said it before, I'm tired of drowning in my pool of sentimentality. Every time I jump and expect someone to pull me out, just to die again and again. And til to this day Kafka nightmare hasn't left me. As if I terraformed and wrote your name with a chisel in the back of my mind.
I sometimes feel like I'm not ready to leave this town, but this town gave me nothing but bucket of anxiety and your fake promises.
I think I have had enough. So did I a few months ago. Trippiest evenings, toxic but a cold summer breeze of Dhaka, and the laughs are all the things I'll hold onto perhaps. Maybe after this Eid-Ul-Adha, I'll meet my fate and revelation. At least that's what I said the last time. Nothing has changed.
