my april…3

it is that time of the year again. i’m off on another shiny plane to malluland to stand next to a grave and look lost.. this time i am superchilled about it though.. my hair spiked n my soul patch is dark /shiny. The fake cut on my eyebrow deepened with the help of a fine scissor. The focus is on how good mom nd I can look among the (not really) grieving public. The hollowness of all this is very much evident and hence the accessorial support. Anyways what’s gone is gone and losses are not meant to be carried around. I guess I can stand in through the ceremonial circus in church the only day i step into it in a year. Dad I dont think I miss you that much, because we only miss people who are not with you.. your absense is wonderfully filled by the omnipresence of you.. Credit is totally yours for bringing me up so unlike you, not making me normal..and for letting me choose my paths and battles. I dont need this annual exercise to remember you..and in the past one year or so, I have understood that I am finally an adult..little late, but for sure.