If we aged with every sigh we made, I'd be disintegrating right now.
Someone once told me I couldn't be tied down. I guess I should have believed you then. Now it is albeit too late.
Today, I worked not because I wanted to. But because I need it. I smiled not because I wanted to. But because I have to.
Parents are like psychics. They seem to notice the slightest change. I couldn't even avoid skipping a meal.
Is there a fear of yourself? The fear of becoming someone else. It is ironic because all these while I wanted to. I wanted to be someone else for a change. But I fear I may not return back to myself. Does that make sense? Or am I being paranoid? It doesn't matter anymore. I've started this, I won't turn back and cry foul.