Strange Sunday Mornings.

Strange Sunday mornings where strange feelings bubble up and nestle in your heart, disallowing you from thinking about or doing something constructive and fruitful.
Strange Sunday mornings where you feel repelled by anyone's touch, intentional or accidental, even if it's your own mother loving you.
Strange Sunday mornings where you wake up with a pounding headache, a stuffed nose and a cold, sharp ache in your heart.
Strange Sunday mornings where you sit and stare at your psychology textbook, reading each line 3 times to comprehend its meaning.
Strange Sunday mornings where you stumble upon a memory from the past and suddenly, the floodgates open, leaving you drowning in yesterday.
Strange Sunday mornings where you sit with a family around you and a BlackBerry in your hand and still, you feel like the most lonely person in the world.
Strange Sunday mornings where you feel tears rolling down your face and though your heart is sad for a million reasons, you still don't know why you're crying.

Today morning is a Strange Sunday morning. You don't know how to feel, you don't know whether you can love carelessly, you don't know if you can laugh despite there being myriad reasons and you don't know when this Strange Sunday morning will end.

- Written on 19th February 2012, Sunday.
Sent on my BlackBerry® from Vodafone