No light. No warmth. No love.
It’s one of those days when everything feels empty. Still, my head feels heavy with some sort of fog. I wish I could draw it out, like Sinuhe with his ancient tools, drilling the skull to let the pressure escape. Maybe then, clarity would return. Sadness rises quietly, without reason or warning. You notice it, try to dismiss it, but it stays. Maybe it’s fatigue. Maybe it’s the weight of small, unspoken things that have built up over time.
The music playing in the background, a familiar Kamanche tune, doesn’t lift me up. If anything, it deepens the melancholy. It caresses the pain like a mother caresses her child.
Today, I’m not running from sorrow but dancing with it. Maybe sadness isn’t always an unpleasant feeling; sometimes it’s a companion. There’s a strange, nostalgic warmth in embracing it fully, in letting it wash over you until it becomes almost beautiful.
The outside world needs my attention, responsibilities lined up and demands waiting, but I want to hold onto this moment a little longer. To sit in stillness and feel everything. It’s like sinking into a hot spring: the heat numbs you, then soothes you, until surrender feels like relief.
The kamanche strikes…some days are not meant to be fixed.