(IV) Oct 10, 2013 06.00 PM Venue: My home rooftop A group of mosquitoes hovered over my head, buzzing. I stood there, leaning, my hands resting on the balustrade for support, looking all around, yet seeing nothing. My focus was wandering in some long lost country. Being with people put me on edge these days. They went about their daily routine, following their ambitions, fulfilling their dreams or at least doing something, whereas I was adrift in the ocean seated in a boat heading nowhere. Aloofness was what I sought; that wasn't hard save for my parents. My father put on a brave face to cheer me up, but I could see right through the veil, that disappointed face. My mother, as always, was worrie...
Not all thoughts translate into words. Some die in a whisper.