Came home, ate and put Olafur Arnalds on laptop. He took me. Ceased me. Hurt me in a strangely pleasing way. I cried. Is it humanly possible not to cry to this? Abhik stared at me. He thinks I got an acute attack. I’m embarrassed but its probably true. You know I’m in a dark place right now. I wish I could throw away my pills and bury this sadness in the ground somewhere and die. I wish my sadness could grow back as a shrub with flowers on it. Daisies. Or poppies. Or lilies. Bound to earth, but free to spread a melancholic joy for a brief moment. Free. Finally. Score that hurt in the end song Shaunak. Make me cry. Tug on my heartstrings. I wanna cry when the film ends. Its your job now. You are my own Olafur. Our own Djawadi.


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