Friday, May 25, 2012

Dear 50 followers, thank you for finally rendering me speechless. : ) 


Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Shiver.





I had a dream I stood beneath an Orange Sky : Alexi Murdoch


Now there's no room for negotiation and none for personally viable imagery. There's neither scope nor time for settlements. What you have now is what you'll hold forever and I wish I could say that you were a part of my scavenged dossier but I've sifted and even hunted in my last few bargained hours, but I found nothing. It's like you never existed. Just as well. 


Give me a lie, and I'll live it. Give me a robe and a fancy hat, and I'll don it. Give me a piece of paper and blood instead of ink, and I'll scribe it. Give me frivolity and I'll find a way to conjure short-lived beauty, peace and purity. Give me a pounding heart, and I'll pretend like I never heard it. 


This is us, old with no recourse to the past. What we have now is all we'll ever have. If you look at it through many rose tints you'd find it perfect and that's the best way to look at it. But if you dare lighten the shades...


You find one place that you hope will let you forget and forgive and forgo. But if you carry all your baggage on your arm, up-sliding into your heart, seeping into your nervous system, and igniting dangerous cells, you can't expect even paradise to set you free. I've seen heaven and I've seen hell and I've seen them simultaneously. The worst part of not having a time lag between witnessing the two, is finding each equally mesmerizing and tempting. The two feelings rendering you unfit for either. When you get sucked into a roller-coaster ride of promise and hope and dejection and failure, you start enjoying the feeling of each. The loss that comes after the highs and the euphoria after the lows. 


All you had to do was ask. But you wouldn't. All I had to do was tell you. But I didn't. All that ever needed to be done, was untying the cruel knots that fate decided to put in the ropes that at some point would tow us back to each other. Maybe they're still not bad enough. Maybe 10 years later. Maybe not. I hate not knowing. But knowing would make me God. 


You're not mine. But I'm yours. And if that's not cruel, what is?