I am covered in paint.
My toes, my jeans, my yellow chappals, my arms.
Its pleasant and its not.
I love the routine. Creative doo-dahs from 2pm to 8pm or so with the chai break in between.
I dont love the speed.
I dont like the way things are moving too fast
And no matter how hard I try, it wont slow down.
Its NM & HK & SB & AK
And I feel different things towards all of them
Worry, doubt, uncertainty, maybe something, maybe not.
And its overwhelming.
It makes me want to scream
Or just sit in a corner and think.
Its hard to figure out if you’re in love or in like or in – nothing.
Its hard to explain that indifference is a shield for uncertainty.
Its hard to explain tingly feelings and oh-so many questions swirling in my head.
Its hard to explain the conversations and the stares.
And the way Im suddenly averse to eyeliner.
Heres to the distraction of paint.
And the swirls of colour and chaos.