Dear Mr XYZ

I declare you have no right over my emotions.
I declare you have no right over my thoughts.
I declare my freedom to live.
I will not live in fear.

I will live my life
And be alive.
Just try to stop me if you dare.


Déjà vu


I’ve felt this way before. The way this whole thing is panning out is absolutely uncanny. I can almost tell how this is going to end.

We’ll dance this wilting waltz for far too long.

Funny how weak the will of the human mind is. We keep making the same mistakes time and time again, and we can’t help ourselves. In this farcical replay of history, I’m playing the same old part.

Come, convince me I’m not crazy.

Walk away.


I honestly still can’t get you. I tried; you’re a mystery.

Maybe this means nothing. Maybe I’m just conjuring thoughts, feelings and meanings. But each time I almost let go, I take one last look in your eyes and I’m lost.

I’m stuck on replay, yet again.

Feeling extraordinarily tired and emotionally wasted today.

Work has evolved so much over the past few decades. From being something you do just to put food on the table to being such an intrinsic part of one’s identity. Of course, the degree to which one feels attached to their work varies from person to person, but I dare say for many people, doing well in work is so important that any failure, perceived or real, can result in genuine emotional struggles.

As for me, the daily struggle still continues. I haven’t found my way yet, in the wide expanse of the sea. The destination is still unclear, untouched and unfound. Opportunities seem all around in the wide open space; the sea is our inviting canvas to create. Yet, I’m blind to their existence. That’s just frustrating.

They say if you’re drowning, stop struggling and you’ll find your way to float to the surface to breathe. Maybe I’ve just been floundering for way too long and it’s time to tread water to stay afloat.