I am inching towards becoming older. I am dealing terribly with it. There I said it.
I feel the constant reminder of what should be. Not so much a regret of the past, but more so a dwindling of my present. I sense the blurring of the future within my own imagination. Dealing with an enormous sense of loss. Becoming silent in my own sphere but also with those who I might hold dear, or once held dear.
I am melancholic. The camera or my obsession with it, is nothing but a in-contrivable desire to hold this moment. Pin it down. I feel hugely isolated, insular and marooned.
I confront my own mortality every single day. Like a time traveller who knows his fate.
I need a clutch. I truly dont how one looks like.
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