That unknown feeling

Dear Diary,

It's weird...you know the end of something great is coming, but you want to hold on, just for one more second...just so it can hurt a little more.

That’s precisely been the thought running through my mind since yesterday and I have been actually running around like a headless chicken. Almost forcing people to keep me company, so that the thought doesn’t cross my mind again. I feel like I am holding onto the strings of a kite which is waiting to snap through my fingers. A kite which will break free and fly so far away, leaving me with just the broken string pieces and bruised fingers to call my own.

What scares me the most is whether I’ll be able to let go the string on my own and walk away with just pleasant memories of the kite. Or will those scars my fingers carry from the cuts the string gave me after breaking free on its own hurt so much that my eyes sting with unshed tears…. The vibes of the inevitable are strong … On second thoughts it isn’t an unknown feeling, it’s that feeling of helplessness ………….


Now let me recite to you one of my favorite poems by Edgar Guest; dear diary which mirror my feelings to perfection…

Myself

I have to live with myself, and so,

I want to be fit for myself to know;

I want to be able as days go by,

Always to look myself straight in the eye.

I don't want to stand with the setting sun

And hate myself for the things I've done.

I don't want to keep on a closet shelf

A lot of secrets about myself,

And fool myself as I come and go
Into thinking that nobody else will know

The kind of man I really am;

I don't want to dress myself up in sham.

I want to deserve all men's respect;

But here in this struggle for fame and pelf,
I want to be able to like myself.

I don't want to think as I come and go

That I'm for bluster and bluff and empty show.
I never can hide myself from me,

I see what others may never see,

I know what others may never know

I never can fool myself -- and so,

Whatever happens, I want to be

Self-respecting and conscience free.

P.S: Some times the grey clouds do loom over mindspace…. And the laughter seems to pale in its comparison!!!!!!