September has been one of the months I’ve eagerly looked forward to. After it’s the month I celebrate me. But somehow I can’t help but just want it to end, and it seems nerve ending.
Riding the highs and lows of the month, well mostly lows and a few highs made me wished I would be anywhere but here. I’ve got bitter salty taste in my mouth that I can’t seem to shake away. I’ve had mood swings more than the Mumbai weather in monsoon.
And through it all I’ve had this heavy sickening feeling in my chest that threatens to consume, and I really hope it does, it’s fascinating and surreal to imagine a world without you, though it may seem borderline morbid.
They have been times where I just wanted to get into fetal pose abs ball myself to sleep. Looks like it’s anxiety season all over again, and this time it’s with a vengeance.
You want to have a good cry cause maybe that would loosen the load in your chest. But then damn you, whoever said “Boys don’t cry”! Somehow tears seemed to have deserted me.
All this makes want to quote the great Billy Joe Armstrong, “Wake me up when September ends!”
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