I wish i had a cigarette. At least i wouldve been complaining on how it leaves its bitter aftertaste and that it makes me pukish now. I like to think ive quit. Since i dont have one right now, i would think over and over my life.
“Talking strangers fading in darkness”
I think of a walk with my father to the tulip garden, the garlic aftertaste of maa’s chicken curry. Im always moving, moving; not reaching somewhere. A friend once said “ dont you think a person who lectures about it in a class is respected more that someone who is actually living it”. He certainly was very right. When you live it, you disappear.
I hate myself for wanting to bite off your lip, wanting to chew on it when i kissed you that day. Sometimes i think of you falling and hurting yourself on the floor and me licking off the blood oozing out of your arm. I think of it often. Why do people want to get into their lovers skin, to die with them, to smear their bodies in the ashes of their dead lovers until it bleeds. And i want you to live and i want you to die. There is no other way to…
I've locked myself in my room for two days straight. I am not sad, i just felt id be better off with myself, focus on myself and things like that. i ve been having too many dreams. Wierd ones, if you wanna call them. I was riding through these roads and people had laid there hands on the road for me to ride over them and break them and watch them bleed and maybe listen to them bones cracking and all of the marrow ooze out of them. I plead them to take them off, they wont. I wake up dreadfully to a call. I wanna go back home and i don’t want to. “Why cant i live my life like people usually do” i often ask my friend. Why do we only live in extremes? “ because we're extremists” we would laugh it off.
Feelings are fragile, life is like a trampoline....once someone said= we are mere travellers of infinity
ReplyDeleteBeautifully put. Thank you for stopping by, Anurekh!
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