So, another sunny day

Hungarian suicide song, Gloomy Sunday is what's on loop on my phone. While the days are getting shorter and nights are double the dark times, I am feeling less of everything. Gloomy Sunday popped in my mind on one sunshine full of cheery day.  Mid pass December and the celebration vibe is having its wavelength very long. Reaching the core of every being. Christmas Spirits trying their best to have change of heart of some kind of Mr. Scrooge around the world. And am me. 

I used to work the night shift for the longest time I ever worked. I felt as if I am born to be a nocturnal being and a workaholic. I am not extreme of happiness nor am I having anything to be sad about. I have only gloomy days. I met some really good people. For once in life have I met people who make you feel like family miles away from home. My roomie is like a sister I could rely on. Yes, she has her time and things to do but we do share hours talking and easing tense from reality and have good laughs. 

I got off a get-in-contact App recently. And after two days, my best friend tried to contact me and she tried another app and even email. It took me a week to reply to her. Caring. So did my dad. Loving parents. 

Forgive and forget. I have nobody to forgive. I hold no grudges for any other being but me. And forget? How does that work? How do I forget the memories which been life itself and suicide is a crime? It's like trying to see air. I'm terrified as the day counts are arising and my meaning for life is sliding to blurry distant display. I am not able to forget things. And it is haunting. Like having pleasure in pain. As enjoying the skydiving knowing you are afraid of height. Except for the time span of the events. 

I am letting go of everyone hoping I'll find what is me. i am not hurting anyone and yet me mess is not getting off me chest. My chest doesn't feel any heavy right now. It does not even feel like oozing out pain or pleasure. It is there. Just there. Pumping and at the edge of the cliff. Always in a scared mode though I have nothing to put me in extreme. 

What a fool, the fool is. I am letting my wounds expose and hide too. I am stuck between cures and precautions and there is more to life than two eyes can ever capture, more than one breathe at a time can exchange, more than heat beat can ever beat. More is all life ever have. Is there no enough? Tough to answer but I guess there is no measure for the matter. I wonder if the matter is really an entity that occupies time and space or is matter an untouchable and unfathomable puff. 

I am still in motion. Its a life with so much fun and sorrow and peace and answers that I am confused. Can't breathe. Breathe. Can't breathe. Breathe. Can't breathe. Breathe. Can't breathe. Breathe. Cant...