the pursuit of happiness
can be very painful.
pushing down bubbles that are ready to explode.. creates nothing but empty spaces... vaccum rounded to perfection..
with no sharp edges ...
pleasing and harmless from the outside;
nauseatingly empty and dizzy from within.
surface tension is not just a scientific word.
collecting within, it crams my insides..
forming a bundle.. of claustrophobic feelings dying to be given an identity,
to atleast be given seperate names,
a whilpool of thoughts reside in that bubble. reaching every moment the burstin point.
yet they exist in the bubble..
ready to be pushed in , the very next time the urge to get some air beckons it.
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