Hidden Birds

Dear diary,

"I don't know whose fault it was, but if it was not theirs it was not mine either." With the May winds blowing, and the mental health awareness month hitting the calendar on the wall, I'm reminded of my May bucket list having everything but my mental well-being. And I can say on record that it's the same for millions, who are struggling to find something as simple as a smile back. It makes me feel dejected, as a dandelion lost all its seeds to be blown, too worthless to be called a wish flower. No one deserves to be that helpless, no one deserves to be, without beating about the bush, that ashamed of his own existence, that one regrets his own birth. No one should feel that aimless, that unapplauded that they want to get run over every time they walk on the street! It agitates me, to see that mournful face of human existence, with the fear of death in one eye and the morose pining for it as the last resort in the other. We are living two lives, rather even more, except the one we want to. And no one talks about it, no one. Every person has got stories worth listening to. In this "fomo era" of the world, we are too afraid to ask for help. Only I know how many times I have cried on my bathroom floor, hid myself in the corner when I'm shaking with fear, and indubitably felt so suicidal. Now I'm grateful for every beat of my heart. I know how often a dark room feels alive, how much the night feels thriving even when there are no stars. I know where in my memory lies a vanished caress and a voiceless condolence, where lies a figment of the lost sky, where lies a broken moon. I know the dark woodland journeys I was way-lost in winter haze, I know that frozen ice on my heart still yearning for warmth. It's a tempestuous voyage through life yet I believe there are clearer skies. There are clouds with silver linings and sunshine melted rain. I know my heart is the right place for happiness and my eyes hold the twinkle of a thousand stars. The universe believes in you and somewhere, has a safe place for you which you can call home. I deserve to get myself those red-letter days I've been craving for, I deserve that strip of the red carpet rolled out for me, I promise. I'm a weary traveller on the path of life, but as I foot uphill I hear the songs of hidden birds twittering in the leaves and I feel a sharp spark of joy on my skin and in my forlorn ears, an unvocal whisper of "I am where I'm meant to be."

With love,

Em♡