I need to write..

I need to start writing again. The way I used to so fearlessly.. I need to find a way to find words the way they used to find me so effortlessly. The only way I can get out of this rut is by writing my way out of it. Each word I write is like a rung of a stair that will help me get out of this well of despair.

I used to be a golden phoenix who could rise from almost everything that life challenged me to. But somehow this time, I prefer the comfort of falling into the deepest darkness of my mind and take a break. There is a certain comfort in being a miserable grey lizard. People leave you alone, nobody wants to be surrounded by misery and self-loath. And maybe thats what I really want. Want to be left alone to my own devices and listen to what my bruised soul is really trying to tell me. I want to know why this pain never seems to go away. I want to know what I am so restless for. I want to know if I am ever going to find what I am looking for.

Till then, the only thing that I can get comfort from is the ocean... I want to lose myself in her embrace until all the hurt and disappointment that clings onto me goes away and I am healed from all my past wounds. The only thing that reminds me that they existed is from the sting that I feel all over where the ocean has touched me.