The Evangeline Traveller

There she was in all her fury

Remarkable zest, eyes of obscurity

As they did the occasional down and up

All was noticed was a slender soul

But to me was someone who made me whole

Her curly hair lined its way into my heart

She had clowned them all from the start

As I touched the curly soul there writhed agony

As she menaced to sensation there stood testimony

The aphrodising hand that cried the river

The pheromonic angst that lit through the doorway

The rainbow in her presence whispered me a tale

Breaking a solemn purity, she put down the veil

Little did she know that there crept a shadow

There stood the demon holding the lantern

The sweet giggle pierced through mahogany

While the tongue in cheek softened up the story

Crimson and tantalized as she lay halfway across the bed

Her plain psychosis charmed a thousand loves never said

As she walked by my fence, I crept steady into her secret room

She wove her own Charlotte’s web, I spent time with a valuable cartoon

L’amour jested past a million curses, her purple aura did attain

In tender darkness sailing beyond, le désir dans ses veines

She is the graceful wind, ravaging past sensible mediocrity

An Evangeline traveller, she guided me through her mystical city

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Beastly Fiction

Rotting away into madness.

Slaying into one’s dreams.

Cursing away into a shallow melancholia

Surfacing at least once, in bitter streams

 

A small rose, belonging to the beast

Beauty turns a nod once every red moon

 

“Take this rose in exchange for shelter from the bitter cold”

“Go away!”

 

As he is turned away, the rose looks up

An imaginary smile but there was a real embrace.

 

“Thank you for letting me in”

Beauty welcomed the beast after all

 

The passive surface of two minds is his domain

The words uttered did not remain

It kept him still

Two souls entered melancholia

The world now went in for the kill

 

Sudden silence caught his pace

All his flaws reached him now

Sudden minds pierced him silly

The fell did see as they won the race

 

As his utter silence did cry out

She kept her book and sang oblivious

A hidden parchment in her thoughts

Crumpled language here and about

As the claws hustled back in control

Anger steady, suffering still did behold

In between his fingers, rested a red soul

Terrified of the invisible anguish

Quietly feeling the same noisy toll

“Why?”

A silent question

The little overseer lay in wonder

His silent pat displayed his hidden answer

 

As she started a new story

A distant fiction shed it’s glory

 

 

Being Highly Sober

I can hear them as I walk through the well lit rooms and feel as if they are flashing before me whenever and wherever I start feeling weirdly high. Enemies to my consciousness and bitter reminders that the world is just too big, having things which will take many light years to understand.

Well until we know, we never understand what they wish to accomplish. They come quite randomly, make you feel like you’re going to trip. They make others perceive you to be high while make you confused as to whether you are or not because all you had was water and sleep. They make you suddenly find emotions you had, think of killing the person right next to you or kiss the girl you thought to be the last one you’d even think of hugging. I am telling you, the feeling is damn strange. They are seizures that transcend the symptoms that the normal patients suffering from epilepsy feel. I’m talking about the mental dis-balance an overly psychological person would feel. However a purely normal person is feeling it and a reasonably confused person is writing about it.

I can sense the wind talking to me at times. It suddenly tells me to try to command it. It’s like you’re taking a walk at 4:30 pm and suddenly you feel a small breeze and slowly a thought comes. “Wind! Lend me your strength” you think and then the wind suddenly rises. “Isn’t it oddly terrific?” you think to yourself. I have some power inside me. That’s true either way but you still don’t know in a case like this.

You feel cut off yet you walk, talk and feel “normally” alongside the other beings with the power to hide. Orthodox it is when those who are under the light are able to hide but the ones who are invisible find it hard at times to keep themselves invisible.

I find the need to see the frequent shake within my square of vision and search for a different direction, perhaps find deeper reasons for things too. Sometimes the reasoning makes me realize I’m so sober that I’m tremendously high.

That’s frightening sometimes.

It’s not until you’ve felt it that you realize how much your mind can transcend between seconds. You could even start to think that the numbers floating in the dark are real.

You’re trying hard but their idiocies are just too loud. To some extent there must be something in those particular triggers you pass by. It’s hard to murder your own emotions nowadays. I have tried though. You wanna give back the blood and toil but what do you do when your enemy are your own thoughts. But then again I’ll find a way since the amount of my brain that’s active seems to be more than 30%.

I swear I shall do something about my mind if it is the last thing I do. Fight through and stop these unknown sparks from becoming the rage that just annoys.

Voices

I see them. They are actually everywhere but then they are not. I can feel them whispering from the inner shadows.

They speak to me in my sleep. They tell me things that I want to know, and sometimes things that I don’t.

They talk. They emphasize. They quarrel.They are the voices that decide right from wrong……..but there are none.

 

“They think you’re useless?”

“Yes he should.”

“You want to take that?”

“No he shouldn’t.”

“I’ll tell you what you should do………….Kill them! Kill them all!”

You suddenly even clench your fists because of the seizures. Seemingly random but not without cause. They are telling you their own motives.

Sometimes they even tell you to pick up a bat and hit your closest friend.

I tell you, the voices can be random themselves hence it’s completely them when you think about it.

Sometimes you are leaning forward on a balcony and they tell you “Jump!”

They think they are very helpful. To some their words are the sweet plague while to others they are your imaginary friends who you talk to in between moments.

I shall tell you, that they are watching you right now.

They are suddenly going to come

……………..

and boom!! They hit you.

Just like the nicotin. In a minute you’re back.

But in the last minute you just went through something you cannot explain.

You see, they are watching you and waiting for the right time to pester you each time. They wait each time for the perfect moment to make you go “AAAAAHHHHH!”

They drain you very quietly, in exchange for thoughts.

Just like that.Literally. And quite suddenly.

They are the answer to your individuality. They inject the right words to let the reaction out. The one that you so hide. The one you exchange for the one you show.

But among all these voices is the voice that calms you down and the voice that tells you not to listen to the others. The clarity. The shield to the insanity.

She tells you “Stop and start thinking now.”

“You love me right?”

“Yes I do.”

Finally you have the voice that matters. Your own.

Her’s matters too though and she’s telling me to stop now and I have to listen. That’s my voice saying.

 

On the Edge

Life, a fact worth discussion. So fast, it doesn’t even break a sweat. Doesn’t even glance at us to look at what we are feeling. Are we even worth it then? Do we even matter?

It clearly doesn’t even want to look at what we feel. We seem like grass left to just wither away. Why should we have to face such agony and unimportance from ourselves.

Have you ever wondered about how unfair it is that the so called person up there can give you nice apples this minute and next minute when you take a bite it tastes inexplicably sour?

Isn’t that example funny? It just makes you realize you cannot even control the fruit you yourself grow.

He: What if when you give yourself away to me?

And then you realize the contradiction.

However do you really think then we are at fault?

“No! It’s not” I say. “It’s not your fault. Don’t think that it is. I’ll slap you if you think that.”

It’s the fault of situation. It’s led by causality, a causality that is seemingly sudden but has stray links.

You start feeling angry at first, then the calm gradually floods out.

The lack of control ravages many leading them to a state of bitter calmness.

The calmness learns pass and bring a blue sky.

I continue in search for a way to refrain it from getting darker again.

We’re just always on the edge aren’t we?

Trying to keep on letting it pass.

 

 

What if

What if what is right is actually wrong and what is beyond wrong is actually right?

What if what is, is not it and when we die we wake up? Yes! What if what we see and feel right now is just an illusion, an illusion which keeps us from seeing the truth as it is. What if all the flash of colours, the innumerable rainbows, even those sudden matching t-shirts. All of them, what if one day when you close your eyes and stop, suddenly you open them and see that what was wasn’t anything and what is, is something that would make you feel shocked or in other words complicated. That’s just the subtle way of putting it.

But….but but let us say this world, this truth or let’s just say “this figment of imagination which we right now cannot imagine which also can deny most if not all of what already exists, is a happy one.”

Now you might be wondering that what am I saying? Now what if what we’re saying right now, what we’re thinking or going to think is just part of a program that keeps us going in this particular sequence. This particular order of events, all the numerous possibilities which our steps can result to as well as all the steps that are possible then become fixed.

That moment when you realize that they keep on coming, the innumerable thoughts, is the moment you begin to question the concept of right and wrong. Random thoughts, specific thoughts, implicated thoughts, obvious thoughts,swaying thoughts. Thoughts, thoughts and thoughts. These thoughts are that which make you think of a question and what makes you think of which question to think about.

That’s exactly how you question “what if” regarding anything and everything that happened and is going to happen.

So what if all of this is all false? The truth is not the truth. The lie is something apart from a lie. What if what a lie means isn’t what it actually means?

What if….

This is Goodbye

The feeling
of withering away
like a helpless flower
sitting in a dark corner on the edge
Am I truly gonna go back there?
Is this really the end of my beginning?
Tears make no difference
I have to leave
I am not strong enough
I have failed them
I am so not tough

No I refuse to believe
but deep inside I don’t want to suffer
There are many who I am going to leave
I will miss them so much
I am only kidding myself
The idiots will never forgive me
They will drag me back again
Am I being heartless towards them?
They are going to punish me real bad
after they bring me back
However I wish I could’ve done more
From everything that’s raged, I feel so sore
I’m slowly losing my will
my consciousness is fading
No!! I must get up
I can’t lose hope

I spit out my negativity
Is this really the color
that marks my end
Red!!
The color  of the necklace she wore
If I could but see her face once more
But I can’t let her see me like this
There are some things she has to miss
(sniggers) They are all idiots
but I guess so am I
(sighh) I guess this is Goodbye

Infinite Truth

Life is like caffeine, intoxicating. It’s bad for you when you’re addicted to it. The truth is too mainstream sometimes and hence hidden.

Let’s face it, we all know life is unfair and hope is just something we use to last.

Truth is, realization is usually regarding the vast negativity because positivity  need not be analyzed. We tend to worry, think and make ourselves more tense about why a person’s depressed, and purposely stay oblivious to why someone may be happy.

However it is happiness that is overrated.

The truth is not how but why.

The never ending truth is behind our purpose for seeking the truth.