8


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I am cold. Too cold. Cold from outside. Cold from inside. Cold like death. It’s freezing. All my emotions have frozen. Today, I also killed a part inside me. It was cancerous. A malignant tumor. It was killing me. Eating me daily bit by bit. Making me hollow from inside.

Do you want to know what it was I mudered today ?

My memories.

When memories take a shape of a monster, you have to kill them otherwise you would end up like Frankenstein. I know it is difficult, almost impossible to kill them as like Shelley’s monster they would argue with you, giving you every kind of rational explanation, raising questions and answering them but then you have to be smarter than them. You should shut your ears and brain so that you do not hear them. If you do hear them, you are trapped, you would be caught in a loop of endless logical arguments.

What if I told you that I am one of the characters in my novella and trapped inside my own creation. What if I told you that through these letters and words I have been trying to escape, to end my entrapment ? I write endlessly in a hope that one day I would be able to run away from this prison. However, the more I write, more I increase the cells in the prison.

But, then I also see more windows and doors to escape.

In a hope to escape from my creation forever…

(Part 8 ends…)

(I will be publishing this in series, I do not have patience to write in one go neither do I have courage not to publish this after I have written something 😉 )  

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