Day 2

When I started writing the journal, I was sure I am going to be really hopeful but as I write this my hope is on the verge of breaking. Hope is a big word for your little mouth, I am assuring myself. The world runs on hope but it’s a vague system for me. I have never been much hopeful about hope. What a dramatic sentence! Sigh.

4.02 PM
I am calm now. Calm like the ocean erasing footprints on the shore, waiting for sun to go down and people to grow up. More often I come across people who are absolutely rude and mean. I always ask myself how people can be like this without acknowledging their story. I am judgmental at times. Then I know some who help each other but remember to post about it online as if validation of help is necessary. Why on earth you need to get famous for being good? Isn’t being good a normal behavior? Kindness should not be a selective emotion but rather a default case. It isn’t, I know.

I have been called irrational and a hopeless case. Sometimes I feel I am. At other times when I am able to dodge it off I feel proud of myself for ignoring. When I find myself contemplating about this I realize many things that can make me more hopeless. So with a heavy heart and a proud mind I am going to ignore it again…

4.15 PM
I cannot make a journal sound poetic. It is a National Poetry Writing Month. I have been trying this for the second time. Last time was fun and quite anxious but I was able to pull off. This year my sole purpose is to write consistently and save the prompts for later use (which I rarely do). I am positive about this (No evil eyes). There are so many poems floating here and there, I am learning to catch them. It is a beautiful month for poets if they are able to ignore the corona for few hours daily. The virus is getting on my nerves already. I have done enough research on it to give a lecture someday if my anxiety doesn’t cripple me on the stage. My anxiety is a fresh water fish in the marine water.

4.20 PM
It is a good day. Everyone is inside their homes. The brown building in my neighborhood reminds me of a chocolate factory. For once I am happy the house is still empty, their construction sound was giving me major headaches.

4.22 PM
I will go and write some poems if I can. Else I will sleep like my anxiety for few minutes.

Tata.
Sameera.