The Suffocating Blanket

Life used to be a warm cup of tea on a rainy day. It was a comforting hug, a friendly smile, a familiar face in a crowd. It was a small joy in a chaotic world. Today was a tornado. The kind that spins you so fast, you're not sure if you're dizzy or exhilarated. I've been feeling so lost lately, like I'm caught in a fog that won't lift. My mind has been racing, tossed about by the relentless currents of maelstrom. It's like trying to hold a handful of sand—the more you grasp, the more it slips through your fingers. 

 

The simple act of choosing an outfit became a daunting task. Each option is a gamble with unforeseen consequences. As if I were trapped in a labyrinth of "what ifs" and "should haves." It's exhausting, to say the least.

 

One evening, as I sat at my desk, drowning in a sea of unfinished assignments, a familiar ache crept over me. The suffocating blanket that threatened to smother me. So desperate for relief, I looked to the solace of music.

 

I reached for my headphones, plugged them in, and turned up the volume. The pulsating beat that filled the room, washed away my worries, carrying me away on a wave of sound. I blasted the "Olivia Rodrigo - Brutal" song so loudly it thundered my ears. It was like diving into a cool, refreshing pool on a sweltering day. I closed my eyes and let the rhythm guide me. My body moved instinctively to the groove.

 

My thoughts began to fade. I danced, I sang, and I lost myself in the music. I found my escape. The world outside my room seemed to disappear, leaving only me and the music. For those few precious moments, I was weightless.

 

And when it was over, I felt lighter and more at peace, like a feather floating on a gentle breeze. I realized that maybe I've been trying too hard to control everything. To make the perfect choices. But life isn't a puzzle with a single correct solution. It's more like a messy, beautiful, unpredictable dance. I didn't need to have all the answers. Sometimes, it's enough to just let go and enjoy the ride.