I talk to myself a lot and, many a times, with imaginary people. I always have. In fact, sometimes I end up talking to myself (or the imaginary person) in public, when I am walking on the road. It is involuntary and I have to stop myself before people really start to think I am crazy. What are you supposed to do when, while growing up, you are the only child and live on that side of the campus which has no kids even remotely close to your age?
Having been an only child and given one of the wildest imagination powers known, my mind and I have always been in a long and deep relationship. We are by each others sides, never-failing.
In short, I think too much.
And when I say “I think too much”, there is really no way I can possibly explain to you how much that is. When I started this blog, I actually seriously contemplated whether the tagline should be – “a blog by a neurotic girl who thinks too much”.
Sometimes I wish I could just drain my mind, empty it…not think for a minute at least. I can’t deal with all of it. The regrets, the wants, the expectations, the loss, the pain, the feeling of a huge vacuum – I want to block it all out.
I want to take all those pages and staple them together. Let them remain unseen for a while. Let them be untouched for now. Let some dust fall upon them.