The Present.

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I'm letting go the yesterdays and tomorrows roaming in my mind right now and just focusing on today, although today is a concussion of the consequences of yesterdays alongside the fears and the hopes of tomorrow. It's okay, we are all biased. It's the partiality that makes us more human, anyway.

I'm currently a bit surrounded by torpidity and the lethargic winter airs that hover my body in the evenings, locking my body with an icy sheath that rattles with every movement, making me sit in bed and daydream. I dislike winter for this, dear world, it never fails to just grasp my energy and ferment it in bluish methods, that makes me smell mould, sense the toxins, see only the ordinary, and hear the ticking seconds of time, and the sounds of my head that nag me saying 'you gotta be more productive.'
But that's okay, I guess. It's how my body responds to winter, and I was built to be a sunflower, I guess, moving towards the light rays that are ever so faint and fragile this season. So I'm usually uncertain, but I'm improving, world. I've eliminated stress almost entirely here, trusting intuition despite of those little anxious voices that pop up. But I silence them with tranquility, and it feels so good. Today, I'm grounded to the Earth. I'm not floating amidst the windy torrents of my emotions and dreams that are prone to egoistic attacks. I'm firm and reigned by gravity, willing to listen to the facts that make life a little tolerable, occasionally indulging in moments of guilt, weakening anxiety, and tremendous self-doubt. Today I feel a little vain, because I'm not doing anything for the world and am individualistically caught up with my own state of affairs. Today I'm a bit afraid that I'd grow up to be selfish and not adequately collaborative yet I trust the inner feeling that I have it within me, to save the world, even if I'm not doing it today, universe. Can you forgive me for this?

Days like today, I'm weakened by the cold limbs, and the frost layering my tissues; that kind of chillness that never goes away, as if the vapour within my lungs turned into snow, settling in the minute areas of space in each and every cell, that it becomes formidable to collect and dispose of. But that's okay, it's only a matter of time, and I will thaw.

Today I'm learning. Today I'm taking long sleeps with troubled dreams. Resisting the lack of comfort from being too dependent and stuck and antagonistically resilient. I'm a flow, interrupted.

But today, I'm okay.

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