Insane

Should I speak? Should I bother shaking hands? Am I weak If I leave it as it stands? I've submerged And I've surfaced with the blame I guess I'm no good, I guess I'm insane Should I go, if she calls out my name? And if she bleeds, should I wipe up the stain? And if I'm low, can I drown in this rain? I guess I'm no good, I guess I'm insane And I hate when you say That I never fight for you Sometimes you breathe All over my scar And you always end up Closer than close That's where I give in Should I confess The actions of a hand In my mind I'll betray you once again Why should I climb? What is there to gain? This is no good This is insane And I hate when you say That I never fight for you Sometimes you breathe All over my scar And you always end up Closer than close That's whenre I give in You're taking, you're taking You're taking me down You're taking, you're taking You're taking me down And you always end up Closer than close That's where I give in

The wrap up

“I wondered if that was how forgiveness budded; not with the fanfare of epiphany, but with pain gathering its things, packing up, and slipping away unannounced in the middle of the night.”

Of growing up and screaming dreams..

If being a kid is about learning how to live, then being a grown-up is about learning how to die....

Sometimes she wishes she'd never grown up..stuck around in the limbo. Staring out at the open yard... burning, raining, rambling, shivering in the warmest of mornings at the thoughts of a desperately forgotten hour. 

Till all that was left were... overrated connections to be blamed, ties to be chided &  lifetimes to be censured.

Beguiled childhood ! the celebration of living & acceptance of conjured maladies ... Perhaps pain is indeed beautiful while it lasts, because it seldom does.

.

The world is better in black & white....and red.

“How happy is the blameless vestal’s lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each pray’r accepted, and each wish resign’d”





.

 “We cross our bridges as we come to them and burn them behind us, with nothing to show for our progress except a memory of the smell of smoke, and the presumption that once our eyes watered.”

and... she keeps going back.. to the pages that make sense....

"Nothing is perfect," sighed the fox.
But he came back to his idea.
"My life's very monotonous," he said. "I hunt chickens; men hunt me.
All chickens are just alike, and all the men are just alike.
And in consequence, I am a little bored.
But if you tame me, it'll be as if the sun came to shine on my life.
I shall know the sound of a step that'll be different from all the others.
Other steps send me hurrying back underneath the ground.
Yours will call me, like music out of my burrow.
And then look: you see the grain-fields down yonder?
I do not eat bread. Wheat is of no use to me.
The wheat fields have nothing to say to me. And that is sad.
But you have hair that is the color of gold.
Think how wonderful that will be when you have tamed me!
The grain, which is also golden, will bring me back the thought of you.
And I shall love to listen to the wind in the wheat…"
.
.
.
.
.

.
So the little prince tamed the fox.
And when the hour of his departure drew near—
“Ah,” said the fox, “I shall cry.”
“It’s your own fault,” said the little prince.
“I never wished you any sort of harm; but you wanted me to tame you…”
“Yes that is so”, said the fox.
“But now you’re going to cry!” said the little prince.
“Yes that is so” said the fox.
“Then it has done you no good at all!”
“It has done me good,” said the fox, “because of the color of the wheat fields.”






...

"I myself own a flower," he continued his conversation with the businessman, "which I water every day. I
own three volcanoes, which I clean out every week (for I also clean out the one that is extinct; one never
knows). It is of some use to my volcanoes, and it is of some use to my flower, that I own them. But you are
of no use to the stars . . ."

Embers and Ashes... and all that goes in between

They say its good news. Death .. In a dream.

A boding of good things to come. Closing of an old door, opening of a new one.
A flame kindling all night, burning out in the sun.

Death in a dream is not a farewell.
But a fare thee well and a beautiful news at hand ...



.

Twins

Two souls alike and poles apart,
One with each other, like strings of a 'tar
Making the music of laughter and tears
Making of dreams and of toasts and cheers

And they'd argue and reason with the voices around
When nothing else worked, just put their foot down
Seemed the lunacy was finally done clearing
It was all cloudless and clean... and pure as dawn

And then one lost and the other found
All rantings had been to shapes in the clouds
And she looked around, there were no cheers
It was all silent, they just weren't there...



.

Reality in ink....

every second is eternity..
every moment forever...
Every life endless and every dream ... true....






.

She wonders.. what the tears are for...when one dies..

Maybe the tears are not for the memories that will not be built...
but for the memories that will fade away....
For the days when she will look back...and see a haze.. a fog...
unrecognizable.. unfamiliar...warm...hollow...real...

You cry for what you will one day forget....

.

Only once....

There is no rebirth, only a sad excuse for hope.
You live only once, here and now.
Seek pain, redeem yourself.
Cling to, let go.
Make a world full of promises and break them all.
Promise to self.. never again..

Go through it all, just so it ends....


.

Either.. Or... And..

Wondered why grey is thought ugly ? Objective is valued way more than subjective.

And why Binary is always fashionable. Always.

When you cant understand the way the way it is, you cant accept it in its entirety.

You may like it, admire it, yearn for it though. You might even want to be it, in some deep dark corner of your being.

But in reality there is place for either black or white.

Nothing else ever belongs..

.

“And when your sorrow is comforted you will be content that you have known me. You will always be my friend. You will want to laugh with me. And you will sometimes open your window, so, for that pleasure . . . And your friends will be properly astonished to see you laughing as you look up at the sky! Then you will say to them, 'Yes, the stars always make me laugh!' And they will think you are crazy. It will be a very shabby trick that I shall have played on you...”

The fox & the snake....

Where are the people?" resumed the little prince at last.

"It's a little lonely in the desert..."

"It is lonely when you're among people, too," said the snake.

“I shall look at you out of the corner of my eye, and you will say nothing. Words are the source of misunderstandings."

...

Bullfight critics row on row
Crowd the enormous plaza de toros
But only one is there who knows
And he is the one who fights the bull






.

Drunken Ratios in Orbis Vita Ortamorta

Kibbutz to Mossad
Boys to girls
Insanes to sanes
Nonsense to sense
Gupt sense to Sen Gupta
Tickles to Jokes

Jo beet gayi wo baat rahi
Jisse Beata gaya wo baith gaya...

Correct answers are a bane for all those with minds of their own.

No Smiley.
EVER.





.

“On many long journeys have I gone. And waited, too, for others to return from journeys of their own. Some return; some are broken; some come back so different only their names remain.”

Reasons and the Night

Winters are leaning at the doorway.. The best time of the year..
When the mundane is stripped to bones and lain bare. When there is perfect excuse to turn around and turn away.
When the cocoon calls for hibernation. And the cocoon is ignored for the joy of the biting wind.
Cold.
Angry.
Familiar.
Real.


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