Skip to main content

Waves...

With Fear and dread overcome,
Moments dampening my spirit.
There is a brand new world
Made for me but I ain't in it.

These roles that I choose
And the masks that I wear
Ripping holes; I stagger confused
As I'm slowly stripped bare.

Shadows and silhouettes,
Shifting me like I'm broken.
I can't find my heart
Though I'm torn open.

I cry not for shame, I guess
Because shame's just a token,
A mark, to show the mess
That you can expiate, once spoken.

In a lucid dream I lay,
Not sleeping, nor awakened.
A suspended immortality
Not living, nor dead.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

13-04-17

I don’t know what I am going to write… As usual. I am mostly confused whether I should talk to myself or to someone else. I have these urges of spending time with other people. But, at the same time there are barely any people I like spending time with. I over-think things, because that is the only way I can create enough noise to change my mood as soon as things get dark. That, and because I’m compulsively creative (for the same purpose). I am purely reflective. i.e. I am versatile to get into any role a person or situation demands. But this versatility is also damaging to my identity. I suffer from basic problems like not knowing what I like or dislike. I cannot do those, “Quick! Tell me what you want to do right now!” kind of games. While most people lose all layers and dig out their identity after that statement, I go blank. Because I do not want anything. I have no desires in life, nor aim, nor purpose. And hence, no ambition. I can pick up a piece of paper on the street because …

A day in the life...

I know now how it starts. It feels like today is a holiday. Like everyone goes to work to BE shallow, like a ritual. It feels like everything you do seems like a dream. And everything that someone else does seems like an idea. A concept. A concept like what if life was like this. This mundane state of existence where everyone believes that life has a purpose and that till you do not realize it, all you can do is be pushed around by it (life). As I write this, I feel a distinct drain of energy. All images, all masks... Everything that conceals the dark, gray innards, all being lifted. Setting free the rain clouds to hover and unleash their torrents.

It feels like a holiday.  At first a pleasant, lightness of being. Like everything is a dream. Like you are invulnerable. Indestructible. And then you begin to sense the dissatisfaction of eternal satisfaction. Like there is no purpose. There is no reason. There is no life. Just persistence. Like you have aged a million years in a span of …

Rant 3

Labels scare the shit out of me. Since the time we are born we get stamped with labels. Hindu, Muslim, Sikh, Isaiah. Higher caste, lower caste. Small town, developed city. And the newer ones that always seem to offend someone or the other. LGBTQ and a few more obscure letters. A dozen different sexualities and a hundred different orientations formed from those sexualities. Feminists, menimists (apparently "menimists" hasn't caught on with the Google dictionary... I bet that will offend someone). What the hell happened​ to just being human? Or is the "man" in human offensive to some pseudo-feminists? Ooh! Another label!We pretend to unite for a cause by causing several more partitions. And what's more? We get offended by the mere sight of the opposing party. (I bet that offends the "neutral" or diplomatic population) We refuse to see and instead relate. Relate to our memories. Relate to our assumptions. Relate to our impulses, obsessions and emotio…