Tired…

Rhetoric…who are we questioning when we throw that lingering seed of unknown into the universe? Is someone supposed to know the answer? Do you want someone to know the answer? Or is it supposed to be just that…one big bowl of unknown…let out into vacuum to spend the eternity of its time in unquestioning oblivion?
I have no idea what I’m writing here…except for the fact that in all about rhetoric, I’ve just about used the maximum rhetoric than ever in my life.
I’m not high…I’m not feeling especially low either. It is just that feeling of ennui that creeps in slowly and makes you sigh at the end of every alternate sentence before you even realize its presence. It isn’t physical exhaustion…it is a kind of mental fatigue that makes you want to forget everything but the words you’re putting on paper. It is a tiredness that is more of a realization…one that knocks on the inside of your head and huskily whispers, “You are tired” and all that you wish for anymore is a glass of juice and a series of mind-numbing cartoons.
I was walking along today on my way to wherever it is I go everyday and I couldn’t remember the last time I laughed without feeling a huge weight hanging around my head. It was then that the overwhelming sensation hit.
I wanted to sit down in the middle of wherever I was, hit my fists against the ground and throw a tantrum that no one would hear. In fact, a tantrum that I don’t want anyone to hear…for that tantrum would be the venting of my personal vendetta against a world which keeps me awake till 2 in the morning and expects me to be in time for the class at 8.
In the ordeal of finding my feet each morning and searching my memory each night, my vocabulary seems to have become seriously stunted. The word “TIRED” seems to occupy an inordinate amount of space in a dictionary that is now comprised primarily of the words- ‘Aargh’, ‘Grunt’, ‘Huh’ and ‘Sigh’.
Are you wondering what it is that I’m doing?
Don’t. I’m not entirely sure either.
Many a time I strive to do many a thing differently…away from all those paths that “normal” people would. But, I guess…I’ve reached my limit now. Even with that desperate amount of craziness, the tiredness is now filling every bone of mine and every muscle, I feel, is tearing itself up into each individual fiber.
They tell me it is just for a week more…and then, it will all be done and I can sleep for, what will seem to me, an eternity. But, what bothers me is the question of whether I’ll be left with any hint of sanity by the end of it. No doubt, even in the moments of extreme loss of sensibility, not many people would pick up on it- I’m not that big a show-off. But, the screaming in my head is no lesser than what it was last night nor is it going to get any lesser tomorrow night.
So now, I’m letting out the final question into the oblivion…what does one crazy person tell another crazy person who’s taken up something  to the effect of a permanent residence in the head???
*END*
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