Now at 3 in the morning, I think of the two letters I've started writing and left unfinished. 

Amsterdam

Checking in. Leaving for Venice tomorrow.

I'll not speak of the sights. That belongs at a later time, when I am calm and unhurried.

Instead I'll just unburden my mind a little and say, I find it odd how people react to another hiding their grief. As if heralding one's feelings of anguish signifies the depth of caring. For me personally, the more significant the wound, the stronger the desire to hide it. 

Why should I, let the uncaring masses witness my profound loss? Such a sullying of my breavement.

This is an odd tangent isn't it. This is why: I was at the Tulip gardens and I thought of the Qur'an, how it describes Jannah as gardens with rivers flowing beneath it and hence among the bright flowers, I remembered Death.

Distillation

It is one thing to have a heart wakened from blind submission into awareness. It is then another to have a heart capable of questioning in pursuit of deeper faith. And finally, armed with more knowledge, it is a feat to have an obedient heart.

.

It's hard to unangry yourself when the situation has you already ticked off. And this incessant coughing (it's been what...8? 9 weeks?) is definitely not helping.

When do I get to feel normal again. It's been 4 months. 

.

Am trying very hard not to let it get to me. And am failing quite miserably.

What hunts me down

I get these nightmares. I call them "running" nightmares, in which I am invariably chased by a villain. A someone or something. I don't get them very often now but lately they seem to have made a reappearance. How disturbing. At least it's not every *i shall not swear* night like back in pre-U but still.

I've never not run in them. Several nights ago, for the first time ever, I gave up. Well, my dream-self gave up anyway. That never happened before. I remember getting 'caught' once, but it wasn't because I stopped running. I was just caught. That particular nightmare ended with me waking up still feeling the fingers closed in around my throat. I felt it. It was so real.

But this one, the one that I stopped running in, I was just caught & got my legs broken over and over. It wasn't 'painful' in the normal way but it hurt my mind. I can't explain it.

Anyway. Nightmares? They are not fun.

.

I've been in denial for the past 6 days and now I don't know how to feel about this anymore.

I saw the snake my maid spoke of just now. It was sitting in Fluffy's favourite sunbathing spot. Fluffy went missing 2 days after she first saw the snake. And she noted how the snake was thicker back then & smaller today.

Maybe now I can just cry. *sigh*

Back beat

I grabbed my copy of The letters (Kerouac-Ginsberg) and opened to a random page. They're so charming to each other. My eyes stung. I snapped the book shut.