Interestingly, my own words comforted me — I read my old Toastmasters speech — “Where is my home?” I had penned a few poem lines at the end. It felt beautiful.
Ask I not for a gold studded throne
All I wish for is a beautiful home
There are limits to intimacy I guess. You still have to have a contract to be civil with each other.
I am angry, angry at everybody I guess.
I am so depressed today. I am alone in the world. I want to die.
Writing is my meditation or at least I hope it to be. What’s yours?
I want those days back because those were the only days I knew.
I am so depressed. No promotion. The projects are taken away.
We are essentially alone in our lives, aren’t we?
The relentless march of time.
