One of Those Days

It's one of those days when I’m falling down the rabbit hole of existential crisis.

I start to think of my younger self, that was so blissfully unaware of who I would turn out to be.

When life was less burdened, and I aimlessly wondered about the most trivial things.

Very little of our bedtime stories talk about the not-so-happy endings. I wish for something less miserable than counting days or hearing another voice echoing through these walls apart from mine.

The silence is deafening.

I start to think of my younger self.

A time when my identity was inclined just to gender and a name. Perhaps there’s a larger truth to the way you feel that is better left unexplained.