On Thursdays, we never get silly.

Oh how I hate Thursdays. 

They remind me of how lonely this world could get, or how I chose to live it. Not a nice cup of coffee or a movie or a small talk makes me feel better about them. The cup of coffee, though, I take that back.

 Have a seat, I'm taking you on my self-proclaimed journey to my Earth.

You know how sometimes they say you live in the world you shape? So naturally, if you don't like being lonely you should reach out to people and snap out of it. They never tell you how nerve-wrecking it could get. They never warn you of the depth of detachment that slams you mid-conversation. How sometimes going back home from these outings feels like a godly punishment: now you have every reason to pity your loneliness, you do not know how to connect with people and their presence is as insignificant to you as their absence.

Feeling grounded and in control are both the most important things I like to take with me to bed. If one is missing, doubt substitutes, bringing along guilt and regret. So my Earth has never been studied in the astronomy of contentment, or placed in the galaxy of a thousand sparky stars, but it sure has founded the physics of detachment. Not into science, huh?

Bottom line is, Thursdays are not my kind of days. If I'm being honest, any day that is socially celebrated is a strain to my heart. I never feel the authenticity of happiness even in my happiest moments, how am I supposed to be happy in these dull moments?