guilt

The single-most significant, rather the only reason for disturbance, guilt. Listening to a song, smoking, guilty about wasting the time that could’ve been spent on something else, for screwing my lungs, to my future, and her future, it sucks. After my break-up, emptiness, an excuse for every stupidity, groped around for sympathy, finally reached my hermitage, living alone, feeling that this was bliss, guiltlessness was bliss. Do anything I want to, now again, guilty about listening to music, watching a movie; do not relish reading anymore, always working out a plan. Sitting at a south Indian restaurant, for the whole day, just to live those moments, now even eating is a job, last few months there were pretty bad, agreed, there was always something to run towards, remember, I even felt guilty about not knowing the meaning of the word ‘perdition’ of not owning a car, a DVD player, I have no idea what this is