It’s 1 o’clock in the morning,
With my body lay upon bed,
Staring onto the plain ceiling,
Thoughts occupied my head ,
But neither of them help,
Many nights have I postponed my sleep,
To be awaken in a pool of sweat,
I gasped for air and found myself alone,
Like many nights before I ended up writing ramblings,
My dreams laid upon paper, thoughts into ink,
Not awake nor am I dreaming,
The night turned the darkest as my heart slowly sinks,
Here comes the inevitable thought of my demise,
Uncertain and unknown,
Like threaded fabric, my fate had been sown,
Every night I simply wait,
And every night my death is postponed


Lonely traveler

I ended up boarding the last flight due to extreme delay. The shops were closed, the hall was empty and the seats were occupied by those who suffered the same fate as me.

The machines had stopped working, lights dimming, doors shutting and the chatters had receded. To be direct, it was late.


My only company was the roaring engine of a small twin-engine plane as it soared through the night skies.

I found it fascinating. With the bigger one, the lift and landing was smoother, whereas with the smaller one you could literally hear it roared as the propellers spun in unison. An experience that would forever be imprinted in one’s mind.

Airplanes and busses


The thing about studying outside of your state is the loneliness. Total isolation at times.

Ofcourse other than that, there’s public transportation. In the scale of stuff I like, travelling is definitely somewhere up there, and on the other hand, on the scale of stuff I hate, there’s travelling too.

It’s more than just about fatigue or weariness. Or your shoes falling off midway after miles of walking. Or losing a bag on the train.

It’s about the tranquility of the odd. Being an introvert, I’ve always had the minimum amount of friends needed. For the sake of socializing and cheating on exams (just kidding, wink wink 😉 )

Travelling however, give the idea of a double negative. I’m alone because I’m in a foreign land, therefore it is normal to be alone. I found bus stations, airports, and terminals, one of the most peaceful place to sit down to read or just observe.

It’s a place with no origin. Everyone come and goes. They don’t belong here. There’s no folktales, scary stories, or myths. It’s just a place somewhere on the far side of civilization. A jam-packed crossroads of strangers. You could sit on a bench and stayed there for the whole day, no one would question, no time to question even.

It’s just a perfect place for an imperfect person.

A place where I could possibly be, undoubtedly, belong.

Thanks for reading. Have a nice day everyone.