Perhaps

There are lots of things I want to say right now. I’m afraid if you pay attention to my words, I may enter your mind, arrange some wires, and turn you exactly into me. I may seem confused most of the time because I don’t know how to show you “Perhaps” and “What-Ifs” fighting with each other inside my brain. I’m perhaps the epitome of Perhaps. Perhaps, I’m able to see numerous outcomes of events that are happening around me.

Perhaps, because I’ve been wiping my arse with my left hand for so long, now I always remain sceptical about bidet showers in western toilets. Thus, eventually, I have to use the traditional way of cleansing. Perhaps, I’ve been living low-key for so long that now I can’t recall where I’ve kept my self-worth. With each new story I write, I’m losing faith in myself. However, I’m glad I’m writing something. Perhaps, my words won't last long on your cracked phone screen, and before you read the last word of my overflowing musing, you will have already gone. Just like a thousand words are slaughtered by a backspace, it'll die because of suffocation.

Nevertheless, this is for the lost ones who stayed but not enough to reach the last dot (full stop). Perhaps, someday you'll come, seeking the last dot. Sometimes, I think if I had drafted my musings with the concentration I used in rolling joints, I’d have probably brought heaven and hell to you.

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