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One. - Rant




(Written again on one of those hours I was supposed to be studying. Some things are just hobbies you can't give up and sometimes, just sometimes, they can be therapy.)


      I think of you on spring nights, the warm and the cold, the eerily silent. I think of you as the bird flaps its wings trying to make its first flight like the ones in my balcony just did. I think of you when I think of all the Harry Potter books I've read and all the morals and values they taught me, of friendship and bravery but also of depth of each character - a certain amount of light in every "bad" character, a certain amount of darkness in every "good" character.

      I think of you as the night unfolds into its peak hour, enveloping us all into its thick black blanket. I think of you in those dreams I get, of two men walking into my room and telling me to deny Jesus, yelling into me and my shivering tongue, shivering I say, but it's almost paralysed. My last thoughts barely forming thoughts as the bullet strikes my throat with blood splattering.

      Yes, haemophobic me thinking of blood. My heart still tightens a bit when I think of blood. I don't know how these fears come of where they come from. It gets worse when my tokophobia gets deeply rooted into me that I cannot stand the sight of a pregnant woman or listen to someone talking about pregnancy. It's weird how even if my nosocomephobia has begun to die down, the smell of iodoform makes me sick even if not from a hospital. I still remember running out of a hospital 7 years ago and throwing up on a pavement only because it smelled too 'hospital like'. It's worse when it's more than one of those fears gripping me. Just like how the smell of period blood makes me as sick as the smell of iodoform, triggering both haemophobia and tokophobia within me.

      I wish I could ask you what makes someone have a certain phobia. I wish I could ask you if these phobias had some sort of a relation. I wish I could ask you everything about what happens to me physically, emotionally and mentally.

      I think of you in my happiest moments too. When I walk in the colony under a starry sky. When I look up and see the treetops blending in with a peaceful expanse of silvery lights and the birds occasionally flying. I think of you. Sometimes, I wonder if I think of you as a person or if I just personify one of those trees that I talk to.

      I think of you when I hear birds chirp and when I see clouds pour out rain. I think of you in those headaches I get and in those sleep obsessions I have. I think of you as some sort of a spirit - like a patronus may be. Details of yours are only vague memories.

      Man or woman, friend or stranger, old or young, I cannot tell. I sometimes think you are a mixture of all the people I talk to. Then sometimes I think you're the divine I worship. Then, on weird days like today I wonder if you are just me because it does make sense if I am just ranting all of this to myself or may be you're just that they call consciousness because I do experience something divine everytime I'm alone with you.

The rants I write and cannot explain~

05.02.2018


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