A post that may never see tomorrow because the owner is lost today.
Rage … Often have many quizzed me on my choice of mood in my prose, wondering if life was in actuality quite as despondent as portrayed. I really have no answer to that, except that I breathe in conflict: in every emotion, state, choice or mood. Umpteen times I am confused by the multiplicity of choices that are present in my head at any given point in time. Annoyingly enough most of them contradict each other leaving me terribly confused. Reality is that having lived so many lives over the years I seem to have lost track of my own identity, sucked into a whirlpool of emotions that assault my every sense day after day, numbing every feeling. Who am I ? do you know ? for I don’t, a mortal fear looms of its existence, of discovering that I fall quite short of my perceived image or exceed (both terrifying thoughts although there is a feeling of cynical humor in my mind as I jot this down, laughing at this ironically desperate state of mind) Why the hell would I want to find out anyway, what difference does it make. even if I do ever find out, would it change anything ? would I want to change anything, not quite I think. Comfortable in a safe complacent state of mind. Taken enough stupid risks in my life already, now everything that seemed exciting, fun seems risky, nonsensical or plain stupid. Mornings, huh … Waking every morning to supposedly a new world, when I’m not even sure if I have stopped dreaming of the older. Living in hope, that’s what we do – really? Are we supposed to believe in our hopes , knowing fully well the stupidity they present! Secretly hoping , praying for those ‘godly’ interventions that would change the very direction of our lives. 5 seconds of reflection and back to reality, where the fuck are my socks man ? Sardar …. I need socks … despondent lives , empty existences repeated lies, accepted too
Rage … Often have many quizzed me on my choice of mood in my prose, wondering if life was in actuality quite as despondent as portrayed. I really have no answer to that, except that I breathe in conflict: in every emotion, state, choice or mood. Umpteen times I am confused by the multiplicity of choices that are present in my head at any given point in time. Annoyingly enough most of them contradict each other leaving me terribly confused. Reality is that having lived so many lives over the years I seem to have lost track of my own identity, sucked into a whirlpool of emotions that assault my every sense day after day, numbing every feeling. Who am I ? do you know ? for I don’t, a mortal fear looms of its existence, of discovering that I fall quite short of my perceived image or exceed (both terrifying thoughts although there is a feeling of cynical humor in my mind as I jot this down, laughing at this ironically desperate state of mind) Why the hell would I want to find out anyway, what difference does it make. even if I do ever find out, would it change anything ? would I want to change anything, not quite I think. Comfortable in a safe complacent state of mind. Taken enough stupid risks in my life already, now everything that seemed exciting, fun seems risky, nonsensical or plain stupid. Mornings, huh … Waking every morning to supposedly a new world, when I’m not even sure if I have stopped dreaming of the older. Living in hope, that’s what we do – really? Are we supposed to believe in our hopes , knowing fully well the stupidity they present! Secretly hoping , praying for those ‘godly’ interventions that would change the very direction of our lives. 5 seconds of reflection and back to reality, where the fuck are my socks man ? Sardar …. I need socks … despondent lives , empty existences repeated lies, accepted too
Dear Sin,
in my thoughtless attempt, i stole ur post. On the bright side... it flows, its good writing even though the end is visibly contrived.
happiness is a vague feeling-- a fleeting emotion whose existence is cherished in afterthought. some live in a birdcage/in a fantasy world/ in brutal memories and some in unassumed realities. there may be no intervention, maybe no hope, but the act gives courage to live another day that died in another continent hours ago.
ps. nothing in this existence has any name or meaning until u give it one.
