I am going to end my social life.
Because I think I had been better,
When I used to keep quiet.
I kept swirling in my own thoughts and fantasies.
They were bliss.
Not to mention, my dreams.
They had their own language:
Something that no one could understand.
I still have some feeble memories,
When I used to close my eyes
And think about what I would do when I grow up.
I had never thought of crying and begging.
Did you hear begging?
Oh! Of course I do beg.
Instead, I used to beg:
To people, that they should not leave me.
To let all this sadness surround me with dark misty blanket.
I did not want to tear this murkiness all by myslef.
I wanted to have a confidant.
One hand to hold my hand.
To see if I could fly past those checkpoints:
Grave life turning events.
But I see that I can no longer be a limit to their endurance.
I am sure to end socially.
I am sorry I could not meet up to your expectations.
About me, able to understand you.
I was beginning to feel the connecting bridge,
Which I think I made up myself.
Now when it’s broken,
I would like to take its shattered pieces
To my soul.
And they dovetail nicely with my heart.
Because now, those pieces would join the distant places:
The ones people could never reach.
And that is why, I think I should end my social life.
Because it’s not worth living,
At least not for people like me.