Life

Solitudinous Haven

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With my back leaning against the sofa, arms loping at my sides, fan spinning above me, I feel so emancipated from the boisterous cacophony reverberating in my head while on the road earlier. On the hindsight, I think I do love the serenity of this living room; resisting its wreathing sense of lonesomeness is the daily war of attrition I’m combating with, though. Penning down my deepest of thoughts is as liberating as a bird freed from its incarceration. What a therapy for sanity!

Anathe
nom de plume

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