There is no music. There is no sense of purpose. There is no silence. What there is, is me and the keyboard. The state of permanent elation that had settled around me for the past six months ceases to exist. Back to the brooding self. The primary objective had faded off into darkness unseen. I don't care to go back to pull it back into blinding sunlight. There is no secondary objective.
Purposelessness of my existence nags my innermost feelings. My feelings itself seem flat and dead. A sense of immense despair. Everything I am seeing seems to have happened before. Somewhere, some other time. What I am is but a bit of what I say by saying " I am". I don't want to talk sense. Hatred ? or is it that? What do you call hatred ? Why hatred ? Why not ? Yeah! Why not? Why do I hate when I feel that I am in despair? Why do I think that I am in despair ? Why should I be? Yes, there are reasons. But are they sufficient to prove that I am in despair? Why prove? Why not? Why am I trying to get back to being joyous? What is the point? Why should I be happy ? Yeah, Why the HELL? What reason do I have to be either happy or sad? Or why can't I be feeling both?
Guts................................................ look eye to eye, what do I have to lose ? Yes. What??
Nothing. Simply nothing.