This entry always intrigued me as to what was it that drove
her to this immense sense of despair... What made Zoya think so little of
her... she wrote this two years before she died... I found it buried deep in
that wooden box she left me... a forgotten but important insight into what she
thought of herself...
“Have I every belonged anywhere in my life is the question I
ask myself often. Have I ever felt as if I am a part of anything?
As the years the go by and as often I go back to the
question I realise I never have and may be never will be. I have always felt as
if I don't belong... always felt like a misfit...
Always felt afar from my surroundings.
And then there are the hours… the hours that I cant overcome…
the hours that are a losing battle… hours that never end!!!
It is these hours that very often lead me to asking myself
if there's something wrong with me or if may be I'm actually insane!
I look at myself and realise I haven't achieved a single
thing in 30 years of my existence... I have not fulfilled any dream, nor even
touched the edge of the future I envisioned when I was growing up.
I make people up in my mind, talk in their voice, voice
their thoughts to myself, but I fail to put them on
paper... I used to think I could write and that one day may be I’ll write book
and I slowly see that vision too failing...
I used to think I read a lot and was more aware than a lot
of people, but off late I feel its a perception I made of myself, to make
myself more acceptable to me...
Everything I ever thought about myself, seems to now be a
lie, a figment of my own imagination and then I ask myself am I sane anymore or
was I ever sane!”
No comments:
Post a Comment