My Sundays are ugly just like me life, I guess they are turning more gruesome and much uglier. My list of ranting keeps adding with more suitable points. Like, I don’t like the places around, or the human inhabitants around. I need someone with whom I can talk about things of mutual interest rather than blubbering shits. The existence is kind very much over-rated. Its crushes the simplistic joy, and the fieriest fear. I can see the days passing by in front me, like they soar up and vanishes, and me standing there , watching it slipping way, gently or sometime very actively. I dunno when I reached the pinnacle of such lament, such anguish towards a life which was so prettier. The days are rough now, I know. The trusts and the crests of life don’t make me scoot easily, and I am ready for it.
I feel so helpless, and so wasted. I miss home and I miss a lot of stuffs. As each day passes, I feel I am rotting more from inside. I reek of the fouled memories and the rotation of time shift. Sundays are such days where I am devoid of much work and whole severity seeps in down my head cracks. I am not scared of much detachments, as I have lost almost everything ,expect for my soul. I work at a place about which I am not proud of, I am surrounded with people about whom I don’t care or I got a liking. I do try to gel with them, but the colors of hatred that I oozes smears them with irregularity. Blackened soul absorbs everything and it doesn’t reflect anything black. Those people are simple people, without much complexions or desires. Sundays are one of such day where the ticking time mocks me of my mere existence. My souls is slowly corroding with each passing second, I can feel the calloused layer now. The luminous dim ray of life is also flickering, dying. If I continue to live this one day I will be just be a guy who simply breathes and nothing provokes him. Now this Sunday also passed like most of the other days. A bottle of beer and few slabs of pizza also failed to bring a curve of joy in my life. I guess only luxury I could afford now is a sleep. Sleeps are good to escape from this bewilderment of life and I can easily efface most of thoughts for few hours. Sometime this thoughts also act like a brat kid, they doesn’t make me ease out. At that hour few guzzle of beer, works fine, and a belly filled with food also functions s as a catalyst. Its 1 am now, I guess I should drift to a awaited slumber cause a typecast and drudgery work hours awaits for me tomorrow. Good bye Phone.
I feel so helpless, and so wasted. I miss home and I miss a lot of stuffs. As each day passes, I feel I am rotting more from inside. I reek of the fouled memories and the rotation of time shift. Sundays are such days where I am devoid of much work and whole severity seeps in down my head cracks. I am not scared of much detachments, as I have lost almost everything ,expect for my soul. I work at a place about which I am not proud of, I am surrounded with people about whom I don’t care or I got a liking. I do try to gel with them, but the colors of hatred that I oozes smears them with irregularity. Blackened soul absorbs everything and it doesn’t reflect anything black. Those people are simple people, without much complexions or desires. Sundays are one of such day where the ticking time mocks me of my mere existence. My souls is slowly corroding with each passing second, I can feel the calloused layer now. The luminous dim ray of life is also flickering, dying. If I continue to live this one day I will be just be a guy who simply breathes and nothing provokes him. Now this Sunday also passed like most of the other days. A bottle of beer and few slabs of pizza also failed to bring a curve of joy in my life. I guess only luxury I could afford now is a sleep. Sleeps are good to escape from this bewilderment of life and I can easily efface most of thoughts for few hours. Sometime this thoughts also act like a brat kid, they doesn’t make me ease out. At that hour few guzzle of beer, works fine, and a belly filled with food also functions s as a catalyst. Its 1 am now, I guess I should drift to a awaited slumber cause a typecast and drudgery work hours awaits for me tomorrow. Good bye Phone.
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