From: India
About me: About me? Well.. Recluse, dysphoric, morose, inane, insane, caffeine-addict, misread, ascetic, platitudinal, dreamer, volatile, scathing, auspicate, deviant, disparate, iridescent, chatoyant, irate, morbid, colors, canvas, creation, hue, saturation, redemption, vehement, profound, intense, abysm, aphoristic, bound? Creative, encumbered, blasphemous, extant, sentient, opiate? Absurd, moronic, loony, preposterous, harebrained? Plastic blue conversations, paradoxes, anomalies, threnodies, acousmas, delusions, illusions, soliloquies?
Sunday, April 22, 2007,7:18 PM
Twilight Fading..
I read a book as of late, rather, I read two books. Twilight and New Moon by Stephanie Meyer.
I could not relate to the first book so much, perhaps, as it was something that I hadn't experienced. It was more about something I yearn for. Happiness.. Maybe love..
The second book, however, hit closer home. Perhaps it was the fact that it was increasingly morose and no miracles happened during the course of the story. It was closer to reality. My reality.
Mom's voice drones on somewhere. It seems distant, so distant. I take a moment to pause, and try in vain to formulate some sort of train of thought. I look out of the window, towards the sky.
I do that very often, I guess. Maybe it is some sort of sub conscious gesture.
I wait. For deliverance.
Deliverance, salvation, moksha, nirvana.
It is all about karma, a voice says. A voice far too familiar, far too close than it should be. I jolt out of my reverie. It is just Mom who has come wandering into my room, still talking about something that fails to register on me.
Deliverance from what? I ask myself. The answer does not come. It never does, for I have never known it. The waiting is prolonged. I do not know how long it is supposed to last. But I wait. I wait for something that I do not have an inkling about.
Do I wait for a messiah? For a saviour? For a knight in shining armour, who will come and rescue me out of the muddy waters of morbidity which have now become increasingly comfortable for me?
I laugh out loud at that thought.
Knight in rusted armour on an ancient steed, more like.
An owl screeches incessantly into the now fading twilight.
It isn't the prolonged waiting that hurts.
It is the not knowing.
I read a book as of late, rather, I read two books. Twilight and New Moon by Stephanie Meyer.
I could not relate to the first book so much, perhaps, as it was something that I hadn't experienced. It was more about something I yearn for. Happiness.. Maybe love..
The second book, however, hit closer home. Perhaps it was the fact that it was increasingly morose and no miracles happened during the course of the story. It was closer to reality. My reality.
Mom's voice drones on somewhere. It seems distant, so distant. I take a moment to pause, and try in vain to formulate some sort of train of thought. I look out of the window, towards the sky.
I do that very often, I guess. Maybe it is some sort of sub conscious gesture.
I wait. For deliverance.
Deliverance, salvation, moksha, nirvana.
It is all about karma, a voice says. A voice far too familiar, far too close than it should be. I jolt out of my reverie. It is just Mom who has come wandering into my room, still talking about something that fails to register on me.
Deliverance from what? I ask myself. The answer does not come. It never does, for I have never known it. The waiting is prolonged. I do not know how long it is supposed to last. But I wait. I wait for something that I do not have an inkling about.
Do I wait for a messiah? For a saviour? For a knight in shining armour, who will come and rescue me out of the muddy waters of morbidity which have now become increasingly comfortable for me?
I laugh out loud at that thought.
Knight in rusted armour on an ancient steed, more like.
An owl screeches incessantly into the now fading twilight.
It isn't the prolonged waiting that hurts.
It is the not knowing.
Rain, rain on my face,
It hasn't stopped raining for days..
My world is a flood,
Slowly, I become, one with the mud..
Downpour on my soul
Splashing in the ocean, I'm losing control..
Dark sky all around,
I can't feel my feet touching the ground..
Calm the storms that drench my eyes,
Dry the streams still flowing..
Cast down all the waves of sin,
And guilt that overthrow me..
But if I can't swim after forty days..
and my mind is crushed by the thrashing waves ..
Lift me up so high that I cannot fall ..
When I'm falling,
I'm weak and I'm dying,
I need you to hold me,
Keep me from drowning again..
Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net