Will anything change? Everything will.

"No stories ever end. What ends is just your role in them."

I can see people readying themselves to follow their new year resolutions.
And I am sitting like a moribund patient, enumerating the vivid description of years that passed, and there is little or no promise that I will recover.
A flash of memories swept over me,
and flashing of grief is a warning that the sleeping volcanoes are forcefully being carried to the upcoming years.
But how is this possible?
Some of the tectonic disturbances I dealt with, are not even going to turn up in 2016.
Some of the melodies I heard, are lost deep down the lanes.
Some of the ideas I had, are only remnants inside my head.
I fear of eruption that may destroy, I fear of lava that may ruin.
"Embrace the bright, new year, It will bring joy and happiness to your life."- The messages popped.
I read all of them, I replied to all, I typed a few new messages to people I think I must wish, updated a verbose but meaningless status on Facebook.
I am still, tranquilizers are reducing stress. I am no drug addict, writing acts as a medicine to me. But medicine itself has drugs in its ingredients.
I am probably a coward, full of timidity. Do I feel like emitting negativity?
When people are planning for a bright new year, I am contriving to date back or probably, breakdown in ashes.
New year is just a term, nothing seems to be new.
Will anything change? Everything will.




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