Circles.

There are days, like today, when a sudden sadness fills my entire being for no reason. I cannot explain what it is that makes me unhappy, and in my helplessness there is nothing I can do to lessen it but to walk in circles in my house. I will go from my parents' bedroom to my brother's to my own; to the kitchen and to the balcony, where I do not stay long for my sadness does not like light. In the end, feeling maudlin and weak, I will curl myself up in a foetal position on the sofa or crouch in a dark corner of the house and sob. There is nothing dignified about a grown man giving in to his emotions. But when my father returns from work, as my ears will sense the sound of keys jingling, I will quickly wipe the shame off my face and meet him at the door in a composed manner, pretending to be getting ready for dinner. I then leave to brave the world outside; and when I return, and see that my mother has also come home, I no longer feel sad. But tomorrow, tomorrow will come again and with it the sadness once more.