It's a grey cloud that follows me wherever I go.
It's a haunting ghost that refuses to leave me alone.
It's a firm hand on my shoulder; a weight that is distinctive enough for me to experience heavier footsteps.
It is a lump in my throat that I can't seem to swallow.
Guilt grips the heart like steel fingers, cold, hard and firm, clenched tightly enough to make one feel suffocated, but not enough to take one's life away.
I think there is a French proverb that says something along these lines, there's no pillow softer than a clear conscience. I do not understand. My conscience is clear, I have never done anything I thought was wrong but yet I always seem to be the one burdened with guilt.
Why is that so?
Why am I still awake?
Why wouldn't the universe give me a break?
I have so many unanswered questions.
I want so badly to shrug off this lingering invisible cloak; just to feel light again.
In fact. I will do just that. I'm going to sleep right after this and when I open my eyes to the morning sun, I want to wake up knowing that I've left all these guilt and pain behind.
- extracted from my handwritten journal. And knowing what a klutz I can be I might, God forbid, one day lose my journal. This is something I want to remember.
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