“I find it hard to utter - the carnage that I have left along the way of my journey all these years. I haven’t exactly been a good person. Not aware I was turning into a reason for other's despair, their sorrow until it was too late. By the time I realized it, I had already been deemed the monster I had always been afraid of becoming. Maybe I had always been that monster - the monster who feeds on hurt. a monster who thrives on the agony he causes. It is funny how new people meet me and say that I am the nicest person they have come around. Little do they know at the first meeting, the darkness behind that mask is too frightening to behold. Their appreciation only reminds me of my true nature – a hurtful man who is beyond recovery. I never wanted to be the man I have turned out to be, but I assume it was never in my control. I always thought maybe my next action will help me to redeem myself, but it always turned into yet another mistake, possibly worse than the earlier one. How I wish I could go back to being that same kid who was full of excitement and love and passion and empathy and concern and curiosity. How I wish I had been different than what I became. But all that is behind me now. Now I am just a self reminiscent, wounded, ugly man who’s every other action cuts through the people’s soul around him – a man who hurts emotions with every word he says, a man who is damaging, for others, and for himself. A man without closures. I know I can’t change. I know that I can’t can fix things. I know that it is futile for me to even try. And yet I wake up every day, trying – to somehow reverse all the damage. I fail ever day. I try every day. And it is this vicious circle. Maybe it has become the course of my life – to first hurt and then try to undo that hurt. Maybe that is my curse - A reluctant monster trapped and finding a way out, a man going through a lifetime of anguish and tragedy.”
He brought his pen to a halt and went through what had been written in his journal. The pages were stained and unkempt, just the way he was himself. He scanned through each and every word he had written after much deliberation- slowly, hesitantly. But even after all those efforts, it seemed like it was still not enough. He shut his journal with a bang, being visibly irritated by his inability to write something satisfying. This could explain why his journal was stained as the freshly spread ink on the papers of this journal got imprinted on other pages due to being closed in tightly with each other. This was the beginning of his day. He rose from his chair and went on to look outside the window. The sky was slowly changing its colour into a faint shade of blue. It was morning. He rubbed his eyes, burning due to lack of sleep and walked towards the refrigerator in his kitchen to look for something to eat. There was some orange juice and a half-filled bottle of water. He sighed and closed it back. He moved quickly to get ready for work for the day so that he can be saved from getting late. Outside, the sky was blue and the sun was visible far on the horizon. The birds had started to sing and the world was slowly coming to life from the dead of the night to perform a yet another set of actions that many of them would regret later... And that is it. More or less.