Nothing matters any more. Detachment is the word. I hope it is a passing phase. Because it feels weird - lifeless. There is no emotion. Not of joy or of anger. Oh, they do sneak in but never enter really. They stand at the threshold and turn away before I catch a glimpse. Like an oasis in this long stretch of time called life.
May be it’s a defeat talking - the love, the ambition, the purpose - all lay defeated. Isn’t it better this way? This…this detachment. It is what makes the end smoother. The end? Sad, I thought it had barely started. Then again, a life of a firefly. How naïve is it? It flutters hard as if it had a millennia to live. But then it flutters…isn’t that the whole point?
