Sundays are when it makes its appearance, for weekdays are taken up by work and weekends by matters out of work that could not be done on the weekday. What triggers it I cannot pin point. Perhaps its the large swathes of idle time on a Sunday afternoon, or the lack of any human presence in close proximity, or just being at home in my room all quiet, all alone or my refusal to excite my senses with music, videos or any other form of novelty.
I wish I could describe it, but you have to feel it to best know it. It is like a void inside, as if something big that had lodged in your heart for the rest of the week decided to suddenly get up and leave. It is overwhelming but not to the point of breakdown. It fills me with gloom but not without reason. Insecurities rear up their ugly head from moment to moment. Where am I heading in life? Where are the so called friends that I was surrounded by? Am I getting too comfortable with life? Isn't that a bad thing?
I reach for my phone. I need to distract myself. Connect with someone, read another article. Then I become aware of the black ugly looking device and I throw it to the side, only to go back to it again a few minutes later to check if anyone was kind enough to drop a message. Then I stop myself, remind myself the need to observe these feelings. It is a void. Why is it there? I don't know. Why do I feel so sad? I don't know. Should I distract myself so as to not think about it? I don't know.
And at this moment, sitting there in the world with six billion people and a thousand Facebook friends. I feel alone.
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