Some random piece of writing.

Night has come to me again with its silent curtain of darkness.

But the relaxing blackness that covers the sky does nothing to calm my inner qualms except-

perhaps, they are dyed into a more bluish color that underlines my hardly bohemian lifestyle.

I have nothing to say for myself, for I know not who I am. My being is torn between two ways of existence that think the same but act differently. I am ignorant of the one that really is me, I don’t even know If I have a word in this foul play that life has forced me into.

Can’t I be both then? To evade the pain of being torn, or plunged into waters where I don’t belong. Is there no way of achieving the self respect I so much long for from myself?

Not for now.

So here I will remain, like a strange twisted tree that has been struck by lightning one too many times, waiting for a chance to spread new roots, and to grow new leaves.