One Day In The Life Of An Estranged Consultant

It’s a number I have seen in so many places.

The morning sings about a story of hopes. I look at the morning sun. I think of her. How she makes it all look brighter. Brighter than sunshine.

I turn back. I look at the trivialities of life. And the essentials. I look at people around me. I know that the only meaning of sunshine is that the day has begun. I need to be up and about. I need to go through the chores.

I look back at the sunshine again. I long for it.

You with me?

The day walks by. The evening begins. In between all this, I lose a bit more of myself. Just trying to keep track of all that I have done in the infinte. Yeah. That’s what the day looks like. A struggle to count till infinity.

Why aren’t the numbers matching?

The night is an ordeal. To make things fall in place. To make the different numbers match. To storyboard another life. To live for happy endings. To create opportunities within happy endings. Continuity is essential.

Lets pack!

Yeah. Just hope that the morning does not begin the way this night has ended. Its dark. No-one’s out there. You want a hopeful morning, not a morose night. Nobody likes dropping shoulders and falling eyelids. You look drunk?

Dormant Ambitions Make A Heady & Potent Cocktail

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