No matter how long the winter, spring never comes a minute too soon. I guessed that the aftermath of absolving myself from college would be abysmal; never knew though that it would stretch its claws for eternity… Every night begins with a bout of insomnia- I reminisce those sprightly days: full of zeal and ecstasy. Contrarily, every dawn attaches to itself an attack of somnolence- how I loathe to take notice of the sun’s rays… I move about unobtrusively in my own damned room- ever so indolently, ever so diffidently- contented with all but myself. When I enter the so-called ‘office’, I feel like a bull in a china shop. All that’s there is close to perfect, but my presence ruins the jamboree in the atmosphere.
There are times when I need to be docile, but adamancy just doesn’t forfeit itself. I restrain from shifting the family’s domicile- why can’t I be a little more flexible, a little more lucid? Germane to the fact that I am a man, something is utterly missing- the propensity of perversion may differ with men, but it does exist to certain degree in all- as for me, there isn’t an iota of any such sensation in the body.
I was not like this ab initio. When I visit the dwellings of a fulfilled man, there is still a sense of déjà vu. Now-a-days, I expend time in doing stuffs that are not going to take me anywhere in future. Time will inevitably give its requital. On that day, I will be standing in isolation, on the brink of doom- knowingly nobody would expedite the ‘whelp of the century’ from the quagmire.
The flower that blossoms today, withers tomorrow- and so may I…
