The rest

Ramadan is around the corner.
How I wish it could come faster.
I feel dirty and drowning in my own sins and unworthiness that manifest in the hypershooting of neurons in my brain that push me to a recluse. I need company, I tire of being alone but I'm tired too around people.
I thought I needed a break but maybe it has to be something more long-term, more permanent.
I feel tired all the time.
I feel like running to Allah but I haven't been good..so I drag my heart in anticipation of the price that I have to pay later.
Ramadan offers some solace, a door of redemption.
Hope without fulfilment is like cocaine: we keep dosing ourselves with it but it is slowly chipping away what you are bit by bit until you are a shell of whom you were, hallucinating in its effects.
I look at myself with pity and a bit of disgust due to what I have resorted to do and also what I am capable of doing. Where had all the innocence gone?
Ramadan is coming and I can't wait. It offers such sweetness unfounded in any other time of the year..it's like we and everybody else, even the trees and animals are all different when blessed with Ramadan.
I need rest, i am filled with exhaustion.