In case you're looking for me, I won't be home… …I won't be stress eating…or smoking one cigarette after another…drinking myself numb…barely allowing myself to sleep. That would make things way too easy for you. If and when we meet, I will not be staring at a screen obsessing over every little detail about you. Because you're a virus…not an ex. I'll admit, at first, I was spending a lot of time asking all sorts of questions about you. “Where did you come from?” “Where are you going?” “Will you get stronger?” “How many lives will you impact before you're gone?” We fear what we don't understand. But I've had time to realize that it was never you I was afraid of. As it turns out, I didn't need to learn more about you… I needed to learn more about myself. I have been so concerned with losing my life, when not too long ago, I wasn't even sure of what I wanted to do with my life. So, I started asking myself the same questions I was asking about you. “Where did I come from?” “Where am I going?” “Will I get stronger?” “How many lives will I impact before I'm gone?” I should be mad at you, but I am not. I am really upset and disappointed in myself. I was asleep when you woke me, and I almost stayed asleep even after the “alarm” went off. Then the calls came in…from people I have known my whole life but whose voices I hadn't heard in months. I mean people were calling me who do not even call me on my birthday. The effect was contagious…I started calling people I had not spoken to in a while. All the time away from work and others has shown me what I really look like. I was always so concerned with my appearance. Just the morning routine alone was exhausting and stressful. I would wear clothes that I hoped would make me look thinner than I am, shoes to make me look taller, jewelry to make me look wealthier and then hop into a car I can barely afford to drive to a job that just scarcely provides the means to buy these “costumes.” It's so strange…they wanted me to put on a face mask but as it turns out, I've been wearing a mask my whole life. It's so much easier to breathe without all that added weight and the air has never been so incredible… I want to breath it all in. I keep wondering when you'll stop. When the world will go back to how I remember it. But the more I think about it, the more I hope it never goes back to how it was. I don't want to go back to being the person I was before you showed up in the world. There was so much about me I wasn't really all that happy with. I just kept distracting myself with any gadget, screen, drug or drink I could find. But you have forced me to spend some quality time with the one person I've been avoiding…myself. I've been forced to sit in my home and stare at how much I've filled it with emptiness. Crap I didn't really need, with money I didn't really have to spend, placed on shelves I never touched or even bothered to clean. Countless times people have told me, “Whatever doesn't kill you only makes you stronger.” But that has never meant as much as it does in this moment. All the energy I spent being afraid of dying has turned into a desire to actually live…not just maintain a pulse or a paycheck…but actually be present in my own life and the lives of others. I have finally been afforded the time to look at the seemingly endless photos I've taken. Which only helped me realize that life isn't about capturing the moment…it's about letting those moments capture us. I could sit at home, gain weight, watch TV, avoid everyone I care for and blame you for it. But I won't…I can't. I'm sick of blaming others. I've spent my whole life blaming everyone and everything for what was wrong and what was missing. I'm done with that. So, like I said… I most likely won't be home when you come by. I'll probably be on my bike…enjoying these empty roads attempting to move faster than you. I'll be strengthening my lungs so that they are less susceptible to your attacks and with every other breath, saying, “hello” to the others daring enough to enjoy the outside. But if I am home when you come by, I won't be alone. The rebel you've inspired decided on a different strategy than isolation. You see…if you want new results, you need new methods. I've spent enough of my life alone to know that isolation never heals…it hurts… it kills. I have filled my house with the people that remind me how valuable this life is and what I'm fighting for in the first place. You want them…? You'll have to get through me… and I'm not going down without a fight. If your only goal was to kill me, don't worry, you succeeded. The person I was before you arrived… is gone. I guess I have you to thank for that.

'"BASICS OF SOUTH AMERICAN MONSOON TIME SCALE are proposed&designed by me in 1991 to study the South American monsoon&it's weather problems&natural calamities in advance.Find it's details in all websites/searchengines by searching its name SOUTH AMERICAN MONSOON TIME SCALE BY GANGADHARA RAO IRLAPATI or get by sending your email to me. I urge the world scientists to design&prepare, establish&implement and conduct further researches&developments on this scale and break the mysteries of the South American monsoon. If you want to design&establish the scale, printout the basic empty scales enclosed at the end article and prepare this scale yourself. If you still have trouble in preparing this scale, contact me at my email and take my assistance.Kindly recognize me as the Inventor of South American Monsoon Time Scale by making references in your research papers in lieu of considering my immense efforts&sacrifices I have did for it and my quest to establish&implement South American Monsoon Time Scale to serve the people GANGADHARA RAO IRLAPATI girlapati@aol.com

With the wind blowing in your hair and the sun shining on your face, one can find little to complain about. With the ocean colliding upon the sand and the shells spread around the beach, one should find peace. But there is no peace. As the mind forces thoughts, ones unwanted, on to the brain. And the body aches of pains of all sorts of origins. Bruises and scrapes litter the body. No one can be sure where they came from. Strangers don't stop to ask what's wrong. It may be strange for someone to be sitting on the beach on a cold winter day, but everyone has their own life. Everyone has their own issues. Nobody has the time to care. So, as you sit on the beach, with the cold air rushing through your hair and the sun radiating it's bright but frigid rays directly on you, you feel nothing. Absolutely nothing. As if the inside of you was just a cold bottomless pit. No end, no beginning. But empty. All that's inside of you is the dark nothingness that haunts you. It's like you don't have warm blood, circulating through your body. As you even feel cold to the touch. You could even think that your heart isn't pumping. Your lifeless. Motionless. Sitting there on the beach, anyone would think you were just mesmerized by the ocean. But your just trying to feel. Anything. You hope to be happy. To find something to enjoy. To fill the pit inside you. But it all seems impossible. How do you fill something that's endless? Something that doesn't even seem to want to be filled? The only thing you want to do is feel. But the easiest way to feel is through pain. So your left in what seems like an endless cycle of hopelessness. Nowhere to go and no way to get out. All you can ever feel is empty.