I just can’t analyze – myself! Its weird, I never faced such an existence crisis earlier. I keep on trying to remind myself about myself….about the being I’ve been and enjoyed being. I try to hold on to all the attributes of my past self- friends, family, fags, films, festoons. Yet, all seems to drift away. Or is it the other way round: they are constant and I’m just blowing away. What I scribble now shouldn’t be the jargon of a 19 year old (shall be 20 in less than a month)…this lingua fits the lips of an adolescent teenagers, frustrated by tickles of new found hormones.
I realize its time for change…change in the severe form…where I need to metamorphosis and become a totally different feast for the eye. Wish I could fly….wish I had wings so that I could’ve made a mockery of international borders. Wish I could…but like Prufrock an eternal slumber makes me wonder- do I dare disturb the universe? I walk a step ahead to ask do I dare reconfigure the constellations?
Ah that bores me too…why on earth did I try to bite iron and steel…why did I ever want to be thoughtful? And now in the processing of this jabbering I’m being rhetoric. something possesses me being rational I dismiss it as fever I dismiss it as pain…I just don’t know whether I want this anguish to persist…I feel at times I just love it, to be at the wrong end of things. As the pain flows through the muscle bends within me…I savor its bite I savor the images that develops….its addictive…it makes me high!
Ha ha ha ha ha… bit by bit beneath your skin/it murders you –your kith and kin….every night when I fall asleep I am optimist that the new day will pose a solution….months pass, the wind of time turns the pages of the calendar…yet my optimism never fails me…
Are you listening? I know fantasies never pay…they are good to read about and great to watch in films. yet I wish somehow someday some calling will beckon me search for harbors.., till then my odyssey continues. when the force that lit the candles in your alter flee with all the light installed in your life…what is left. Where is the scope for photosynthesis? Shall I then opt to wilt….tell me Stuti . I want no consolation from you…I just want…
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