As I mock your bondage..

Here we are, at the edge of time, falling so desperately all over each other in a vain savage attempt to taste that one moment of sanity, of reality; something that sticks. It lingers on as that which surpasses even death, or birth, or life or living. Something true, tangible…attainable. It fumes above our heads, like cloudy symbols, teasing our incapacity, our inferiority; mocking the life out of us, steering us like slaves, into a chamber of ideality, one from where there is no return. And we call out, to one another, in this mad crowd of perfected greed and irony…and we bump into each other, a seemingly random event, but a need fulfilled. A need created by us. We fall at our feet, and beg to one another, a little love to partake, a little lust to fit in. We hurt inside, slithering in superfluous aims that deceive us, pulling the ground from under our feet, making us wonder and back…and the cycle continues as no one breaks free. We deny ourselves, the mockery and its truth, weaving circles in arrays; patterns of incongruous proportions, overlapping one another…random and chaotic.

We pine our lives, seemingly into futility, but that desire, that fire which eventually consumes us, is the ultimate power. It destroys us, when everything else fails. “Don’t ever say yes, even if I crash and burn”, “for if you deny me my infatuation, you murder my inspiration.”… As it boils me, and as I implode, I will look down upon the rest of them and mock their bonds...their bonds and them teething…gnawing away like starving rats in a glass box…verily away from what is true. If love is the leap, you are my inspiration to jump…to make that attempt, to a silver semblance of insanity.

The world is burning with the rest of Rome, an indispensable act for creation, of minds and art… for love and passion…the world is stable in its chaos, it needs to bleed out the clot… and it will incinerate me till my ashen bones are all that lie unconsumed. But, till then all I will do is ‘pour me a drink’, because no matter how deep I am in whiskey stench…or how wasted I am on that steely stair in the middle of the sand…or how the world tells me I have missed out on practically everything worth living for in my tireless obsessions… I will live on…

I will live on in my pain, and in that pain I will die… So profound is my grief that in my death too, it will weep.