This is from my journal entry created on July 23, 2019.

The clock strikes 12. You are lost.

The ringing of the imaginary division bell strikes your mind. And suddenly your anxiety kicks in. You think about yourself, the current you. And the series of events you have gone through. You think you are not what you were. Your eyes fixated at this invisible memory of you and the entities around; entities that are long gone and that are in the verge of creation. You think about your goals. They are none, at least for now. What you think goals are merely wishful thoughts you hope to be satisfied with.

The clock strikes 12, at midnight.

Creatures in your mind-cave take flight, hoping never to be grounded. Yet again, it feels like Deja Vu. You had experienced this yesterday. Maybe yesterday wasn’t a day ago. Maybe, it was few weeks back. Months ago. Years in the past.

The clock strikes 12, all dark.

The time bomb inside you has been initiated. T-MINUS-N epochs of eternity. You have few hours left before sleep sneaks in, attempting to seduce you. But you know that’s not going to happen anytime soon.

The clock strikes 12. Darkness dwelling around.

Before you think about tomorrow you are lurking in your past, taking random walks across the memory lanes. You feel confused. Yes! You don’t have to think about the grim reaper right now, but a weird history of you; your own self.

The clocks strikes 12. You are lost.

Let’s begin for a mysterious roller-coaster, now since the smell of coffee is seducing you right beside you.

The clock strikes 12.

You are T-MINUS-N epochs away from conception. Oh wait! It’s too cringy for this beginning! Fast forward to a dozen of years in the future!

The clock strikes 12.

You are in school, break-time calls you and you feel alienated. You are sipping water from your cheap bottle. An antique piece from coca-cola. Exam’s coming near, and you are anxious for good grades since they do matter for scholarship.. Right? Well, it depends on where you are and how you were raised upon. Nevermind! Scholarship matters for everyone in this society of yours.

The clocks strikes 12. The bell rights of suffocation from exam.

You think exam is “okayish”, since it’s your usual “mathematics”. You think you can even fail. Why not? That’s a possibility. You lie to others of doing just fine. Yet results come in and your scores are good in math and science. But then, they might be worse in all. Only you know that! What a bummer you are, we all are.

The clock strikes 12.

You are somewhere, reading book. May  be you are at hilly terrain. Maybe you are under a scorching sun, on a one-storey house. Maybe you are on the ground somewhere. You think. You are lost in books — the mysterious world unfolds.

The clock strikes 12.

You just passed (or happened to) high school. Maybe you failed. That’s okay! Now, you have no fucking clue about your life tangled with aimlessness. “What the fuck I am supposed to do now?”, you question to yourself. You try for engineering. Perhaps, you try for some other education standards set on default values in the menu. Anyway you proceed. So, cheers to that.

The clocks strikes 12. You are in.

You are at new premise of ‘education’, excited and fearful at the same time. You think, “maybe it’s what I have wanted…“. Confused, you are. Nervousness kicks in. Time passes by oscillating here and there.

The clocks strikes 12. Crisis kicks in.

It used to knock at your mind-cave few years back, during your childhood. Your childhood is fucking fuzzy now. But you had controlled that crisis temporarily. Now, it has elevated. You are all lost among the vastness of time and space. And life! You gaze upon the sky at night. Starlight reminds you of great emptiness among the vastness; the vastness there is to entirety, and your insignificant existence. Serious nihilism kicks in, evoking existential crisis like it used to in the past. You feel you are nothing. Nothing matters. The feeling is scary and exciting at the same time.

The clock strikes 12 hopelessly.

You are lying on a ground somewhere, gazing at the clouds. Clouds remind you of your wishes floating around in bits and pieces, never to be caught by common means you know as of now. Some clouds remind you of quantum physics the touch of which you have completely forgotten now. The double slit experiment. The Schrodinger’s equation. The quantum entanglement. Pieces of quarks. Neutrons sitting there as sturdy as it can be like you. They remind you of “you” — a lump of particles trying to make sense of the wholeness. You are a dot in a universe. A universe in a dot. Aimlessly, hopelessness float around. A sense of individual “self” kicks in. Your mind rides on a specific cloud; a small dark one, all isolated like you.

The clock strikes 12, all empty. No sound rings.