How are you, Jack?- Pretty&Broken

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Do you feel that desperate search of solace in yourself? A search for home where nothing pins you to the ground and demons don’t scream in your face?

You’re trapped in a state where the key to the lock is right, but the locks are rusted and jammed. A search where you know your destination but your footsteps mislead you?

Do you feel it lingering in the core at the pit of your gut? As if you’re losing contact with the ground and you’re scared. You’re scared of what awaits you because to the crowds, you’re so sure of yourself.

You’ve got the aura, the grace, the talk and the walk-all mastered. You can woo anyone with your charm and words, but, you fall apart when the clock strikes 4 in the morning and there is no audience to put on a show for.

You’re spilled on the floor, crying and making empty prayers to the God above. You have no idea what to ask him, but you still do. You want this emptiness inside you to go away, forever.

During those hours the facade falls and dissolves in the ground just like your tears. The show has no audience and the curtains are drawn, you cry your tears of a clown. You lie down on the stage that life has put you on and feel the cold making way inside your soul.

Do you feel that desperation in yourself? Because, that is where it begins, doesn’t it?

I feel the same way with a cold soul and an empty pit that I drown with intoxicants and a shitload of pills.

I find myself searching for God through the eyes of strange men and kissing the devil on her neck during lonesome nights.

Are we not all the same? who take off their masks when the audience is not in sight just to breath for a little while?

So, you’re up at 4 watching the dawn as tears run down your cheeks because life was different this time of the previous year and now, look at you?

Sprawled up on the floor with coffee by your side, planning the day and making up responses in your head when the world asks you,

“How are you, jack?”

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About Bano

I’m trying to find a better introduction but since, I can’t? Hi! I’m Sheher Bano Zafar and I write. I write not because there lies aspiration to be a writer someday but because, it keeps me sane. I love the color silver, black and grey. I also realize that they fall under the same color tone. Whatever, I write is a result of my 3 a.m blues or insomniac depressive tendencies. I can’t write during the day. I’m addicted to caffeine and well, anything and everything (if I like it). Also, I suck at conversations. I bite my nails. Most of the time I’m clueless about the world around me. I love politics and youth activism. People tell me that art and politics don’t belong in the same mind, but I’m passionate about both. One day I might be drawing on a canvas or writing a story and the very next day I will be heading off to attend a summit on the role of youth at the United Nations. I have multiple people trapped in the same body. Each side does try to express itself, in minimal ways if not fully. I’m currently going through a rough patch in life. I guess, I’m adjusting to the world through multiple perceptions. I absolutely love talking to myself because an expert opinion is always required. Most of the time, I just play scenarios in my mind that would never happen. I’m very contradictory in my thought process and actions but it is okay, people get to be what they want to be as long as no other soul is hurt. Peace out!

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