Sometimes, talking to people about things makes you realise a fact or two about your own self.
Sometimes, you need to say a few things aloud to make yourself believe them.
Sometimes, letting go is the best thing to do, for there's beauty in the breakdown.

I am sitting in the dark.
It is a summer night and yet, it doesn't seem so hot tonight.
I live in a metropolis. And to say that a metropolis can be quiet must be a laughable claim.
I can hear the drone of the exhaust fan. The murmurs of night traffic floating up from the road. Fragments of conversations drift in through the window as the summer breeze plays a game of hide and seek with the curtains. The fan whirs overhead cheerfully. And Abida Parveen plays softly on the speakers, etching intricate patterns of poetry with her voice. I wave a mosquito away.

Something that I had overheard someone saying, a while ago, seems to be coming back to me. It had something to do with being aware of everything at once. Being aware of one's existence, of the tiny little particles that make up a whole being. Of knowing, that one is alive.