This one is a bit weird
she knows not much
Though she speaks
Of all the world
And such..

Nearing the 30 mark and dreading it so bad. I never thought I would be 30 or rather that it would come so soon. I think of all the things between what I have not done and all the things I wish I could have done.
I feel panicky at my loneliness, not much though, just a little. Just enough for me to know that it is there, somewhere within me.

Sometimes when I make the walk back home, I do not feel like coming home. Coming home to my tv, coming home to the warmth of the heater and the comfort of the bean bag, coming home to the red label black tea, coming home to the books I am trying to finish at one go, coming home to a sink of dirty dishes, coming home to the tiger eyes frames on the walls, coming home to the yellow and blue walls I painted myself, coming home to debates with my own mind on whether to eat or not, followed suit by whether to cook or not, coming home to me, me and me alone.

It’s a steep climb down and naturally it is an even worse steep climb every morning to office. Quite what I wanted- a good walk in the morning. But the flat is nice and well found after days and days of searching and the kitchen has a good view. It is also safe and within the owner’s well guarded premises, which does mean one too many prying eyes often, but my skin has turned thick over the years, and ignoring things which I would not have dared to in the past, comes easy. I don’t even have to think twice on that.

I guess that is what turning 30 means afterall..