I almost fell into that hole in your life

This post makes absolutely no sense; it’s just a jumble of nothing.
You have been officially warned.

-


It still hovers in the air, eventhough you try not to breath it in. Like that one solitary fly that you just cant seem to sqwat, that swiff of perfume that mingles with the dust and mouldy stench in a sweaty gym. Some people, some thoughts, some ideas- they never seem to leave you.

Right before you go to bed, those couple of minutes before your body drifts of into oblivion, your mind tends to go through a quick recollection of all that happened that day. You rethink some of the things you said and regret them eventually. You try to translate and interpret things that people said to you, what they meant, what they really implied. And then, when your mind has pretty much reached a state of indolence and inactivity, random thoughts of you pop up.

I don’t want to go into some really pointless recollection, mentioning gestures and footprints that only mean something to me. From the beats of that particular song, the way I thought that those beats had been composed for us- just us. How in your car, we used to just go and drive into the most barren parts of town, which were only lit by those headlights that flickered on and off. When we went fast, they seemed to be a million eyes winking at us, smiling at us because they saw the joy that resonated from us.


We played our battles on blinded territories, too fearful to scream, too willing to wound. And now, in retrospect, in a chest full of memories, the toys mingle with the weaponry. Each entity has lost its purpose, outdate and obsolete, our paths don’t even cross anymore.

This is just a mere catalogue of affection.


I once thought so much of you, remember my entire theory on how god had a plan for both of us? That this rocky little path we’ve been tripping onhad eventually made who we had become all the more fun, and all the more worth it. That behind the ashen faces that had been scarred black by the rogue incense, you were my crystal clear piece of glass. There existed charm and simplicity, an odd sort of tranquillity. Accepted for who you were, fiercely independent, you were perfection tainted by humility. Green and naïve, you were so painfully unaware your own brilliance. Remember when I told you that you moved in rhythms, one foot tapping before the next. I meant, that there was an aura around you, when you walked, you seemed like you were dancing to a beat of pure ecstasy. You remain in fragments, in the minds of those who were moved by you, and those who were too rigid to melt. Your conscience always jogged alongside you trying to keep par with a mind flipping through space and liberty, transcending time and epoch. Your beauty, ageless, your charisma, effortless.

I think I need to find out why my wings seem to have wholes punctured in them.

The ability to feel, every atom in my fingers, with the silent hum of doctrined symbols, is what I aspire to achieve. I shut my soul and melt the numbers. A vain effort in running away from the impending doom of a night surrendered. It was long ago somewhere, in between the heavy intoxication of letters, which ceased to have coherent meaning long ago and whiles away. I long sometimes, for a world that once saw me, and a life that would knot my mind into celestial stars that dot the blue print of the lines on my hand, reflected in the outlines on my face. They would trace a pattern of the dead and those who never dared to live outside the chrysalides of comfort that niceties once prevailed over.


The dragonflies and the white cloth seem so similar in the glittery red glow of days gone by. I let myself go and allow myself to muse, that for one second, I see beyond us, and the probability that the numbers that once celebrated the happiness of pinpricks and slogans could even be remotely deceptive of a connection worthy of gods and myths and smiles and the effort that it takes to live through what we might have persisted. In a world that made me succumb to secrecy and falsehood, I gave in to the silver metallic that reflected the longitude of the nakedness in my mind

I laugh myself to sleep

Its my

Lullaby.

-

(I told you do it made no sense)