How often have we felt that uneasy feeling, that something has either gone wrong without us realising it, or comprehending it fully, or something is about to go wrong and we don’t have a darn clue about it.
The past week and a half has been something like that for me – a sense of foreboding at something catastrophic either having happened, or just waiting to happen. Catastrophic not in the material sense, but more in a metaphorical sense, in the realm of the intangible.
And it is usually accompanied by a loss of appetite for me, along with the feeling of your legs turning to jelly, when days just seem to drag and meander without an end in sight, and when sometimes, you have this overpowering thoughts about death and wonder if anyone would make it to your funeral, and shed a few tears from the heart, and not just as a showpiece for a social occasion, will someone privately grieve your absence.
There is a thought that has gained strength in the mind, nay, sorry, the heart (yes, I think from my heart, when it concerns matters pertaining to heart – the mind has been a naughty little pest intruding into the maters of the heart of late, so it has been banished forever) and which I intend to soon put into practice – to what end, I know not now, but hopefully, it should put this feeling of numbness to rest, once and for all.