clamour.

If I am not writing feverishly it means that there is nothing much going on on the emotional front and too much going on around me.
There is too much noise, so much so that, I am still reeling under its effect when I finally go off to sleep.

I can’t even think, there is too much noise.  

Not bad noise, no chaos, just noise. Too much of the physical world that just cannot reach into me.

There is not enough inspiration or maybe I am not looking. 

Yes, my eyes are closed I am sitting and letting the world get to me. 

Too much noise.

If I am not writing I am reading.
There is so much content in what people write. It is commendable how people rise from talking about the ‘ I. YOU. US.’ Talk about the world at large, talk about things in particular, talk about morals and life values. Talk about the needs, norms and calls of the society.

How different are they from me? 

I am too lost. I am trying to imagine this to not be real that there is something else that I am meant to do there is something else that I am supposed to be passionate for, something else that I should care about. 

But no, I seem to be my only priority. 

Bah. Too much noise.