Black Hole

It was bound to happen, sooner or later the dam will come crashing down with the weight of the water.

It feels like I’m floating. Like I’m detached to the physical world that I  can only vaguely interpret what my senses are sending to my brain. I cannot plan the next things I need to do, I can’t follow my own imposed schedule, I’m tired and sleepy but I cannot sleep. These are the side effects of stifling your emotions like keeping all the tentacles of an octopus inside a net bag. And I feel so… confused. 


I want to cry. I want to mourn the death my aunt. And now as I type this inside the KFC — I don’t know why I ate out. I’m lost — My brain is blocking the idea of her. Because I don’t want to cry here. Not only here in KFC but here in Dubai. I don’t wanna mourn here on my own. I want to hug my sister, I want to hug A, I want to see my family. I want to open the damned dam when I get home, and I still have four days of walking lost in the world, like a balloon attached by a long string from my own body. Is it possible that  I’m still in denial even though I have already anticipated this? 


I’ve been anesthetized. Death don’t shock me much anymore, I don’t if it’s because of my profession or because of the trick I’ve taught myself for a long time — to move on quickly and look at the bright side. And I don’t know of it’s a blessing or a curse to have the ability to block your own emotions from yourself. 


I’m a bubble getting bigger and bigger, and only time will tell when I’ll pop. I just hope it’s not while I’m still here especially now that I’m having PMS and I want to cry and at the same time punch these men in the face for looking at me. I’m in a very bad hole right now and I badly want to be reached, but at the same time I don’t want to.

Yeah, I know.

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