65 days in and nothing

And I’m back. I actually have been writing but in secret (if you're one of the few lucky ones, dare I say, who follow me on Instagram, then you might have come across that secret garden of mine). I wanted this space to be nothing but positive but who am I kidding, life doesn’t go that way and it will always have its ups and downs and I’m a little bit caught in between.

Honestly speaking, I’m not at all doing okay. 65 days since I came back from a two-month vacation, it has been a rollercoaster ride. One day I’m happy, the next day I’m not. I feel like I’m just pulling off a happy face just to avoid influencing [the mood of] the people around me with the negativity inside me. Actually, it’s not at all negative. It’s empty.

Yes, I’m empty. Or at least a feel like it.

I try to radiate something meaningful, light and cheerful but inside I [feel like I] have nothing left. I'm exhausted.

I'm done trying - done trying to fit in or be accepted or even the least, recognized. I have finally realized that if you are not born in and from this society, you will never ever be part of it. I will always be the foreigner, an outsider.

Oh please don't get me started. This is not me ranting. This is me saying what I experienced and still am experiencing.

People say the happiest people are the saddest, are people who have a hole in their life. I understood what it meant but it’s only now that I felt what it really meant.

Oh boy do I have loads of stuff going on in my head right now. It’s going by so fast that no matter how fast I type, my fingers nor my thoughts and words can’t keep up.

So yeah, maybe the first step into escaping from this emptiness is to admit it - that it’s really happening, that it’s real and I should start acknowledging it.

And hey, there’s nothing wrong with that, is there?