Sauntering by the rivulet at the gardens of my mind, alone. I tipped toed across the puddles of water, crossing back and forth in a conventional fashion, leaving ripples through the fabric of my thoughts, spacetime itself.

Catching hold of my own breath, I landed in multiple gatherings of friends, family and relatives simultaneously. The only thing that I could feel was loneliness, not the good kind of loneliness that let you ponder about your life or act as a repose, it was the malignant type- the kind that kills.

Skimming through the events inside my head, I realised that my life was insignificant, if I did not put my thoughts into it. Without my hopes and dreams or essentially my will to live, I felt lonely, as if a hole was bore straight through my hollowed soul.

My vision zeroed in to the nothingness that was inside me. I was floating aimlessly through empty space with my meaningless fight for life. Feeling like everything was crumbling- had, in front of my very eyes. There was nothing I could do to stop this, even the calming rivulet was just another escape pod for my futile thoughts.

I bit the bitter pill, clenched my fist as tight as possible, gnawing the pain all over me. Eventually, I grew accustomed to it.

The pain became a norm.

Alas, there will be no one that will go into the grave with me. I understood.


Craving for more? Down below:
Let Me
One Year and Counting…
Breathe. In Remembrance.
Avoid At All Costs!

Published by zeckrombryan

Hope. Joy. Feelings cloaked as words.

7 thoughts on “Accustomed

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