The road to Damascus -page 16

I take my diary today, staring at blank pages which stare back at me. I know not what to write.

Been a mixture of emotions of late. Sad one moment, lonely the next…feeling a bit lucky, not knowing for what …then feeling guilty, regrets and sorrow….and now lack of appetite for even food that I love so much.

It all blends into a feeling of sickness, with symptoms that resembles no illness in particular.

Sometimes the appetite to engage in any activity isn’t there. Daily routines feels like running in sickening motions that I’m dying to stop.

When I hear people going somewhere, I feel like following them, though I know not for what tangible purpose I should embark on a journey …yet when I stay back, I feel left behind, like staying at the back of a stage, blind to every action taking place on stage though I hear the noise and giggles, I have no idea what sense to make of the noise, and the reactions.

Perhaps, I mustn’t think so much about the past, and whatever lessons they hold…there seems to be no end to the lessons of life. Perhaps the key is to just live whatever seems right in the moment and leave lessons and consequences to time to contemplate.

I know not if this my feeling of being lost, feeling uncertain of where my life is headed, is part of the process of becoming an adult.

I remember my haste when I was young, to be an adult one day, and live as I please. Here I am, not sure if I’m living, let alone as I please.

Now I stare down, at the miserable kids, eager to throw away innocence, eager to grow up, and outgrow the beauty of their foolish ways.

I long for that stage, where I find the balance to live as a child, with the wisdom of an adult as boundaries.