These days, I just do not feel like writing. Perhaps I used to be a lot more loquacious earlier, maybe, even uptil a few months back, I was bursting with the energy of words. Now, I just feel so mellow. A strange sense of peace has enveloped me. Sometimes, I feel so calm, like I'm standing still, living inside my own little bubble, watching the madness of the world outside. I watch the lives of most people with bemusement, sometimes with sympathy. Now - I just feel peace. I think I have finally become happy with myself. Contented with the person that I am. Whatever self-image problems I might have suffered with in the past, I don't have them now. Despite my private demons and my emotional turmoil, I like the person I've grown to become.
And even though there are exams to study for, the usual assignments and the myriad other things that keep me so occupied nowadays, there is pure bliss in the little things - like the black-and-white photograph of a tiny life, beautiful lines from a good book, endless glasses of Iced Tea, or even reconnecting with an old friend.