Survival is expensive; at times it has cost me everything. It is a succubus and I’m running out of things to feed it. I am no stranger to anxiety and the thunderstorms of depression. 7 years of surviving, of existing, chained to thoughts burning like napalm in the back of my head and handcuffed, bareContinue reading “Oh, survival”
Protected: –
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Protected: Worse
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Protected: Two types of people
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Self hate
There are times I hate myself. Where rage consumes me on principal and I struggle to laugh because of a moral voice which refuses to stop screaming “it’s wrong”. I’m angry because I don’t know how to quieten it, I don’t know how to divorce myself from the situation at hand. I don’t think it’sContinue reading “Self hate”
Oh my Love.
Oh my love, tell me what you know of the peace you gift me. The calm you give in the disquiet of my silent moments perturbed by the gore and guts and blood of my day. I revel in the joy of your company and your arms where my imagination runs to the edge ofContinue reading “Oh my Love.”
A little too quiet.
It was Diwali yesterday and I missed everything. An ocean away from my family and Love and for the first time in a long time I felt alone. There was no grand celebration, no lighting of candles and no fireworks. I felt as though I was trying to rush through the day; anything to returnContinue reading “A little too quiet.”
I wish I could remember your name.
There was a man lying face down with blood streaming down his head. I don’t remember his face, only his lack of lucidity. It’s been over a year and I still remember the weight of his body upon the crest of my knee as I turned him over and the sensation of warm blood soakingContinue reading “I wish I could remember your name.”
Insomnia
This is a horrible night. I can’t write because I can’t think clearly as unbridled exhaustion relaxes itself deeper into my mind. There is no coherence, no turn of phrase or sweeping analogy to explain the weight bearing down on my chest. It’s the breathlessness that kills you. There are no platitudes gracefulContinue reading “Insomnia”
On death, disease and despair.
After much time spent, or more accurately – wasted, attempting to write about death, I’ve concluded I cannot simply because I do not know it well enough, we’ve never had the intimate displeasure of warring with one another. I’m writing in the infancy of my medical career, still an incessantly curious third year medical student,Continue reading “On death, disease and despair.”
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