This.

This isn’t new.
This unwelcome transition, this seemingly life-altering change,
The animosity it surreptitiously brings with it, the incompetence, the perceptible aloofness,
The clichéd feeling of being at crossroads, unsure of what’s lying in wait,
Unsettling, yet incomprehensibly demanding,
Bringing my universe to a standstill, again,
And again,
And again,
Until my infinitesimally bloated insecurity breaks into a million unrecognisable fragments,
Challenging me to find my calling,
Pushing me to build my very own happy space.

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Author: Annapurani Vaidyanathan

I hoard books for a living. And read them too, when I am not sleeping. I express what I think, so my unheard feelings don't sink. I like to sing when I walk, to keep shades grey, at bay. I speak like a dork, but I don't want to drive anyone away. I write what's real, and nothing fake, so visit my blog whenever you need a break ;)

2 thoughts on “This.”

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