Dear diary.

I didn’t know what I was doing and where I was heading to. I simply existed. I did all the essential things that had to be done to survive.

On a few occasions I’d forget to breathe, other times I’d deliberately hold my breath to see how far I could go, until my mother would come asking what I wanted for dinner. And you don’t ignore her. Sometimes, I think that was what brought me back to reality, her questions and the heady smell of garlic she often used to cook, two things that I grudgingly grew to love.

The incessant chatter of my parents was often drowned by the chirping of the birds (that would wake me up in the morning). I never understood why they had to sound so cheerful, even though they might just be talking about how annoying the day is.

Sometimes I’d just watch the world go by, dawn to dusk, dusk to dawn. I’d fall asleep in between, waking up to a slightly confused state of mind. ‘What day is it?’, I’d wonder, ‘Am I home?’, was what often followed.

It seemed like a rather monotonous way to live,
But maybe, just maybe, that was what I needed to do.
To simply exist for a while.

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