Days cannot be the same everyday.
Someday it’s mellow, spreads a lot of good vibes, keeps me going and I definitely luxuriate in being that way.
But there are days, when I wake up, I would feel trivial, thoughts of how I have to live by myself forever keeps swirling inside my head.
These thoughts don’t just flood in and flood out. They will be inside my head to relentlessly remind me of how humans are causing a huge mess of drama.
How nobody is aware of their lives’ extremity even after knowing the fact that the universe can cease their life anytime, any moment.
The upsetting worries about life and survival is called existential crisis.
This crisis don’t only gobble down your brain but will slowly put you through loneliness more than your flesh and blood can stand.
As far as you understand how different are ‘alone’ and ‘loneliness’, try to ferret out a way to fix the later mentioned.
One way I choose to not feel gloomy is by reading…
…It puts shedload of thoughts that you might not have ran into if it wasn’t the book.
…It throws variety of percipience in front of you from which you pick and fortify the one that matches your long run belief.
…It lets you knock around the world even when you are lazily lying on your bed feeding on the bowl of vanilla.
…It helps you get into the interior of writer’s head and feast on all of his learnings.
…It keeps up your thirst for wisdom and peace.
If you need a living proof?
Take me as an example. It’s too early for me to divulge the reason for my heartbreak. But whatever it is that I do to keep me calm and grow along the way is, I READ.
Currently, I am devouring on Mark Twain’s — The Adventures Of Huckleberry Finn.
