2022 is here and I am still writing, although not as regularly as I used to unlike a few years ago. I do not know whether I should attribute my lack of writing to work, other mediums of expression like Instagram or indifference to documenting my thoughts. I still maintain a diary and write in it but how the notes in it have changed over the past few years. As I succumbed to the age old system of being comfortable in my job, I have since given up on a lot of things that were a strong and inherent part of my life. I am ageing now, being a tad too old to ponder over every single emotion and yet I find myself morose and cheerless having abandoned my ambitious plans. I suppose it's going to be easy, blaming failures and unfulfilled obligations and goals on this self imposed restriction over the past two years. I feel like time is indeed running through my hands before I can even comprehend about the things I wish to do and people I want with me. What a strange longing! Today also...
"Some of the sweetest things in life are through greatest struggling battles"