#medsfr

My life's lead, brittle yet not the pencil one ofcourse.

Led to these apparent "chronic health conditions if you keep eating the same yellow instant noodles that promise you the care only a mother can give you everyday" if I quote the doctor. "But I eat healthy", I said and "I barely have eaten those, twice or thrice a year" i added. He went silent and kept on typing out my symptoms on his curved monitor, the same one my friend was talking about.

Afterall I've been visiting him once a month, for almost a year now.

The same doctor that smokes a nail in his breaks allegedly. And I can hear his coughs sometimes as I wait for my turn, half passed out; because someone else thought about how the medicines were making him weaker and how he would've spent all this money on some herbal juices to help with his migraines.

I look upto the door to his cabin. Blue slate with white texts referring to the degrees my friends dreamt of, before going onto different paths, waiting them to intersect once. They call it a "reunion". The groupchat runs on memes. With atleast 2 members out of 4 deactivating their accounts.

Least of kindness to give to ourselves, isn't it?

I took my hoodie out of the wardrobe. It was full of the scent of the pink comfort i accidentally poured too much of. I look at my weight, dropped by 3 kgs in a day. I think and giggle about how I count my height knowing that I'm biased or, how I look into the mirror to realise how the purity of one's soul matters here.

With a heart that I feel and the dizziness in my head and the trembling hands and the shivers i feel down my spine. I think about the doctor who said "your visits are too regular, try not falling I'll" as if I didn't pay him money worth someone's daily income.