Nostalgia Engulfed...

"You know what's the worst part about being a writer?" "Enlighten me." "You can't really differentiate between reality and fiction." He looked confused, so she tried to explain - "For a writer there's always a thin line separating the fictional realm from the real one. The scary thing is, at most times the line is a little too blurry. Most of my stories are what really happened, parts of them are made up. Some things I write about, I've dreamt about. Others, I wish would happen." She looked to see if he was bored, but his attention was rapt so she continued - "Over time, you give up all the segregations and start seeing everything in terms of words, in terms of stories. Like right now, you could really be here but could just as well be a figment of my imagination." He pulled her hair - "I'm real." "Oh I know." She said. "Just making sure you do. Anyway, I still don't see how this i...

* I finally have access to my blog again YAYYY! * I wake up. I get ready. I go to work. I'm out of the house before I can properly adjust my eyes to the morning brightness. I book a ride to work. I get to work. I grab a bite to eat so I don't fall asleep again. I work. Work work work work work. I have lunch. Say me have to work work work work work work. I take a break. I work some more. I book a ride home. I have dinner, maybe watch some videos while I eat. I fall asleep before I even realise I'm sleepy. This monotony is heartbreaking. There are mornings where my alarm goes off and I don't want to wake up and wish there was an infinite snooze. There are afternoons where my head feels like it's bursting at the seams. There are evenings where the breeze doesn't bring solace but a speck of loneliness. There are nights where I'm so tired I can't sleep. But every time I'm about to give up, I remember the little things. The morning - just cold e...