Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Bright Star

How often it is, that life passes us by… fading our glow, as it disperses our glimmer into time and space. Where I was once radiating a blazing passion for life, I now return ashen and frail. Once, I thought I would conquer it all and now I beg for the world to release me. I wither, frightened, in the world of blood hounds…where I remain, the dubious mongrel, neither tame nor ferocious. Life has robbed me of my ambition. Or am I to blame for that? If I don’t dive, I won’t get wet. I see lives around me get bigger and stronger…more purposeful…mine though, is driven by fear and self imposed constraints. Constraints…elaborate, external, veiling my inherent tendency to be plain… stagnant…

The future is uncertain. I am almost out of my embryonic bubble without any indication of what species I belong to. Do I eat meat or grass? Do I kill, or am I a docile pet? Am I the advantaged lot, gifted with the ability to introspect or is that just a farce? Do people with consistent lives of stale satisfaction yearn to be me? I walk among equals as an equation unsolved, desperately seeking parity… a value.

The idea itself, of life beyond this moment, escapes me. I see no future for myself. I have burned out, in my tireless endeavors to so desperately seek meaning and adventure. I am now pale and dreary, what excited me then, repulses me now…a complete change of heart and beliefs… like a seasick captain, ready to raise the flag and surrender. Many great men die young; before the death of their zeal and ambition. Before the perplexity of 9 to 5 and taxes and funds captures their minds and retards their senses. I too aspire that end… an end with some consequence…an answer…any answer.

For too long I have lived amidst my dreams, shining exuberance…living the life of other’s envy. Shining brightly to the face of the world, sharing that bursting bright glow… Like a star…a dying star. The apathy now, is anti climatic.

I need glamour…and drama. I feed on it…my dying fire does. I can only hope I die before I find out there is no more light in the world for me to imbibe.

1 comment:

bin-it said...

You know you are a good writer when a person reads and sees him/her self playing a role in the piece. And I honestly do not think you need to be told that you are good, but I felt like expressing the obvious, for once.