Ever thought why a trivial thing can make my head spin? Ever thought my problem could be resentment because of lightness and insignificance of being? I am but one ..... Like a god I created my world .... but time was not of my creation .... everything I created was neath the sand in an hourglass .... I wish it were not bound by time ..... I am but one ..... and five others .... within ..... we have no without ..... we live the unbearable likeness of being .... shadows with no substance .... an obsession after the other .... a virtual attachment to the dwellers of an insane, intolerable, and indifferent universe .... recycled expressions .... borrowed lives .... reincarnated inherited sins ...... the burden I take on my shoulder might be a speck of the rock of Sisyphus ..... but it feels like it ... my sin is not as Oedipus's but my regret is enough to pluck my own eye .... when thy world is merely thine all the insignificant things magnify .... you hear the sand grains in the hourglass .... you hear your own heart beats .... you feel your breath seeking entrance to your chest as if to seek life within your lifeless body and death by its departure ..... everything will magnify when myself freezes before the choice between lust and value .... fail .... breathe .... and wish the six of us were six parallel lives embracing value and lust equally .... a life with all the attachments I have severed ... and a life with one attachment to myself ...... a life with faith and conviction walking as substance and shadow .....a life where being is more true and self evident than nothingness ..... where the mundane is less questionable than the magic ..... where I can't get more gnomic ..... a life with you .... and a life without you ...... will I get a chance to be before I am no more?
Wednesday, October 07, 2015
The Unbearable LIKENESS of Being
Episode 52
Ever thought why a trivial thing can make my head spin? Ever thought my problem could be resentment because of lightness and insignificance of being? I am but one ..... Like a god I created my world .... but time was not of my creation .... everything I created was neath the sand in an hourglass .... I wish it were not bound by time ..... I am but one ..... and five others .... within ..... we have no without ..... we live the unbearable likeness of being .... shadows with no substance .... an obsession after the other .... a virtual attachment to the dwellers of an insane, intolerable, and indifferent universe .... recycled expressions .... borrowed lives .... reincarnated inherited sins ...... the burden I take on my shoulder might be a speck of the rock of Sisyphus ..... but it feels like it ... my sin is not as Oedipus's but my regret is enough to pluck my own eye .... when thy world is merely thine all the insignificant things magnify .... you hear the sand grains in the hourglass .... you hear your own heart beats .... you feel your breath seeking entrance to your chest as if to seek life within your lifeless body and death by its departure ..... everything will magnify when myself freezes before the choice between lust and value .... fail .... breathe .... and wish the six of us were six parallel lives embracing value and lust equally .... a life with all the attachments I have severed ... and a life with one attachment to myself ...... a life with faith and conviction walking as substance and shadow .....a life where being is more true and self evident than nothingness ..... where the mundane is less questionable than the magic ..... where I can't get more gnomic ..... a life with you .... and a life without you ...... will I get a chance to be before I am no more?
Ever thought why a trivial thing can make my head spin? Ever thought my problem could be resentment because of lightness and insignificance of being? I am but one ..... Like a god I created my world .... but time was not of my creation .... everything I created was neath the sand in an hourglass .... I wish it were not bound by time ..... I am but one ..... and five others .... within ..... we have no without ..... we live the unbearable likeness of being .... shadows with no substance .... an obsession after the other .... a virtual attachment to the dwellers of an insane, intolerable, and indifferent universe .... recycled expressions .... borrowed lives .... reincarnated inherited sins ...... the burden I take on my shoulder might be a speck of the rock of Sisyphus ..... but it feels like it ... my sin is not as Oedipus's but my regret is enough to pluck my own eye .... when thy world is merely thine all the insignificant things magnify .... you hear the sand grains in the hourglass .... you hear your own heart beats .... you feel your breath seeking entrance to your chest as if to seek life within your lifeless body and death by its departure ..... everything will magnify when myself freezes before the choice between lust and value .... fail .... breathe .... and wish the six of us were six parallel lives embracing value and lust equally .... a life with all the attachments I have severed ... and a life with one attachment to myself ...... a life with faith and conviction walking as substance and shadow .....a life where being is more true and self evident than nothingness ..... where the mundane is less questionable than the magic ..... where I can't get more gnomic ..... a life with you .... and a life without you ...... will I get a chance to be before I am no more?
Sunday, August 09, 2015
Phases of Despair
Episode 50Phases of Despair
Gwynplaine ..... yes ... despair of Gwynplaine ..... and thus I hid it ..... I didn't say a word .... may be I said too much previously ..... I am not willing to say too much ...... he said "You're miserable like myself .... I am not interested in discussing your phases of despair." ..... so let it be written ... so let it be done.
Monday, August 03, 2015
The Respite
Episode 49
The Respite
I admit I am not as frustrated as I was a fortnight ago ..... This mad flow of emotions I had slowed down .... most probably my mind refuses to acknowledge the flow is still ongoing between the two sides of a pendulum .... my mind can't synchronize ..... and there was nothing I could say to my mind to dispel it ..... so I stand still until the storm stops raging ...... or hide in a cave until the spring melt comes to an end .... it's a respite ...... like turning a page of madness ...... a short respite .... among a dead body and its ashes ..... creatures that cannot comprehend yet can speak ..... creatures that can comprehend and yet cannot speak ...... and a deity ..... that sends a pedestal after another for my being and keeps me hopping from height to depth ..... The fact is I am alone ..... and this will never change .... a respite every now and then is no crime ...... I reckon you will never understand or believe me ..... Henceforth I owe no one an explanation ..... you are all but silhouettes ..... and your promises are just parts of the conjuring ..... let my respite begin .....
The Respite
I admit I am not as frustrated as I was a fortnight ago ..... This mad flow of emotions I had slowed down .... most probably my mind refuses to acknowledge the flow is still ongoing between the two sides of a pendulum .... my mind can't synchronize ..... and there was nothing I could say to my mind to dispel it ..... so I stand still until the storm stops raging ...... or hide in a cave until the spring melt comes to an end .... it's a respite ...... like turning a page of madness ...... a short respite .... among a dead body and its ashes ..... creatures that cannot comprehend yet can speak ..... creatures that can comprehend and yet cannot speak ...... and a deity ..... that sends a pedestal after another for my being and keeps me hopping from height to depth ..... The fact is I am alone ..... and this will never change .... a respite every now and then is no crime ...... I reckon you will never understand or believe me ..... Henceforth I owe no one an explanation ..... you are all but silhouettes ..... and your promises are just parts of the conjuring ..... let my respite begin .....
Thursday, May 07, 2015
In-Toxication
In-Toxication
Now I know why they loved intoxication .... risking their whole lives gladly to reach a near death moment. I've seen it ..... My life passed before my eyes, in this very moment I was glad to go ..... the moment I muttered to myself "And so .... it goes". I started questioning meaning and absurdity of life .... and meaninglessness of death ..... the moment i turned pale, my heartbeats went faint .... and my breath stopped ..... But I forced it in and out for man is eternally compelled to fight against his own mortality itself in an inevitable metaphysical rebellion ..... the moments during which a gate is open between life and death and there is but a fine spider thread on which a man hops in between swinging like a pendulum and man's not certain on which side he will fall ..... but all the faith pours out of man's chest as if in a public execution waiting for the guillotine to end it all and has naught but one chance to shout what he stands for as he has no chance of surviving this cold and ruthless yet merciful blade ..... but once again he's compelled to fight against his very nature and curse .... mortality .....and in the end of intoxication I said "I don't want to go now. Even if I have nothing to stay for ..... I'm not meant to go". ..... and thus I headed to the windowpane and imitated gods ......
Thursday, April 16, 2015
Bleak (The Stoic)
Episode 47
I have no sense of living without aim ..... twenty nine elliptical revolutions since I was born ...... or since I started compromising ...... I can't recall the first or the last time I could deliberate ..... or even when I cared to ...... sighs and howls of the wind and rattling of rain on my roof .... but I see nothing ..... I happen to hear them every day ..... and every thing behind these shutters is thrown out of tune ..... as if all colours decided to deliberate in my stead and desert all the portraits in the gallery and ask of the audience to use their bleak imagination .... but .... alas .... if their imagination was not ripped off by a life so dreary, they wouldn't have borrowed yours.
In this hallway a portrait was hanging and was said to be of mine ..... let me tell you the story of this portrait ..... it's a portrait of my within ..... as a man in my without gazed at me a little long and said "do you know I see you?" ..... vanished in thin air and a few days later he came back with this portrait ... full of colours and faces .... like a still life paintings though all was animated ..... like the detailed paintings of Vermeer though in open air where the sun touches everything ...... but I was not there ..... it failed to surprise me ..... and he pointed at a chamber .... it was a prison cell that even the sunlight sought not an entrance into it .... He said "You're there .... fully submerged in your very self .... I couldn't even see your finger tips reaching out from the bars .... you no longer seek without ..... you're fully submerged within."
In this hallway a portrait was hanging and was said to be of mine ..... let me tell you the story of this portrait ..... it's a portrait of my within ..... as a man in my without gazed at me a little long and said "do you know I see you?" ..... vanished in thin air and a few days later he came back with this portrait ... full of colours and faces .... like a still life paintings though all was animated ..... like the detailed paintings of Vermeer though in open air where the sun touches everything ...... but I was not there ..... it failed to surprise me ..... and he pointed at a chamber .... it was a prison cell that even the sunlight sought not an entrance into it .... He said "You're there .... fully submerged in your very self .... I couldn't even see your finger tips reaching out from the bars .... you no longer seek without ..... you're fully submerged within."
Saturday, January 24, 2015
In search for words
Episode 46
| Why, what could she have done being what she is? | |
| Was there another Troy for her to burn? |
There were many other Troys before you've opened your eyes my friend ...... and there will be more Troys even after your eyes were sewn shut for eternity .....
At loss for words I found as many words that can't tell what I am .... yet they defined what I am not .... In search for words other than "Apathy" I lost my muses ....... In search for something to embrace before Monad ..... I have found Otherness ...... I embraced it like a creed with my body as a shrine .... for I was condemned to be "Another" ...... I found my phrases like rosaries ..... disconnected yet all together manifest my asymmetric self ...... a new level of chaos .... a new level of deformity and art combined ..... art beyond all arts ..... a final ave to reason and my blind soul is submerged in the heart of the beholder.
In search for words I found words a cripple .... but in the end I could put two words together to define me ...... Divine Error.
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