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The Mess!

With life blaring horns at the gate of chaos, the mind meandering it’s way to the lands afar of happiness, and the heart losing it’s voices in the echoes of shattered dreams, all that flashes in the visual cortex of the brain is a haze – a haze that’s a remnant of burnt down establishments of quaint friendships, unfulfilled goals, and love. The haze that drives me crazy, making me run door to door to find an escape, yet growing frail with every passing home, hopeless with ever growing gloom of loneliness. Moving forward, makes me choke, the conundrum of living a life that’s a reciprocal of satisfying, now taking a toll, I look forward to take pause –  a pause from the mess, till the haze clears.

As the haze settles down , am I clearly able to see the madness that I was walking through, the ashes of all  that I ever wanted,  burnt down in the range of my vision, the sky – grey, with the plumes of uncried tears, unheard cries of rescue and the sombre smoke of emotions. The horn seems to have now ceased, and a white noise persists. Blanked by the devastation, the heart makes a frail attempt for the very last time, to hold on, to beat in the hope of a beautiful morning, awaiting a new start, but the brain gives up, aware of the future that’s to come; and it begins – The fall into the abyss, where no one’s ever been, the fall into the unending darkness; the soul all prepared to leave this body of disappointment. The sounds zone out, and in the end the only audible feature remains is a collapsing heart – trying repeatedly to slay the demons of the dark and making the brain believe of the lands distant – the places where the mind wandered and in a flash of light – everything ends.

The eyes, no more blinking, the heart no more beating, the brain no more thinking – yet the soul – the soul fails to loose the body of disappointment. The soul sees what the eyes, couldn’t and as the glint of the white flash tones down, the eye sees it too. The land where the tears exist, the sea of emotions and the friends – the friends that the brain believed to be lost in the phase of time. They weren’t the same, but there they were – awaiting with their arms open —-

To rip me apart. One last time.

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The Half Life.

Muddled in a pool of tears, all “ALONE”, yet again, do I dream about the not so distant past where I had blood in my veins, rather than this somber loneliness, where my words were dark yet livid, where vocab was a medium to bleed, but also to make people’s days, where birthdays truly meant something, where surprises were not so rare, where the hugs could soak out any pressure you can feel, or a day’s outing was enough to book a flight to the wonderland, where a simple garden and 20 bucks could make you feast. Now that I have it all, I live a life alone, a life unbeknown. Where feasts aren’t uncommon, but yet dead, where smiles aren’t few, but emotionless. Camouflaging emotions is always something I’ve been brilliant at, but I wish, a simple plain wish, to have those few extra moments with you, just to laugh out aloud one last time, where atleast for a second I could let go of this loneliness and feel it all again, feel myself breaking down in a land known, just hug you and be there always. I just wish this dream or a nightmare or whatever it is, just ends and all I have is you people. I didn’t ever have the guts to type this, just the same way I never had the guts to show what you people meant to me or express what you guys meant to me or how it all felt loosing each of you bit by bit, partially due to my inability to keep hold of the people I loved the most and partially due to the other faults of mine, but right now glued to this screen, intoxicated, I surely, though mindlessly am writing, writing just in a distant hope, reliving the past, reliving the bucketful of toxic memories. It definitely is a dangerous thing – MIRTH, it makes you bleed your emotions, more so, when you are alone. I don’t even know, if I’ll have the guts to share this with you, but definitely, if you’re here – you definitely mean the world to me.

Just a wish, I hope I could bleed words more profuse to get you guys back.

-The Illusionist

Einsam.

I wish I had a way of telling you how much I miss you right now…
I wish I had a way to communicate the feeling that lulling you to sleep did to soothe my nerves…
I wish I had a way of feeling your arms around my neck, eliminating from me these bouts of loneliness,
I wish I could spill to you the enamoured heart and protect you from any emotion that leaks a teardrop from your eye,

I wish I could have you lying beside me hearing my relentless sobs as I bare the demons residing deep in me and still not judge me,

I wish I could caress you in my lap feeling your weight subsiding the one of my lonesomeness,
I wish I could hold your hand and dance the way out of this trance of disappointments,
I wish I had you to bequeath me of my powerlessness,
But wishes don’t come true from hundreds of miles away…
But I still wish I had you to have me bewildered rescuing me from this pool of teardrops!

The Whining

Grazing past my ears, the sounds of wind whisper the whinings of a dark lore, of the voices that have echoed inside of me over the years, making me wither and shiver in pain that now seems familiar. Living a life that might be a dream to many, the pretentious has its own set of struggles. Behind the mask lies the loneliness that few know and even lesser have suffered. Behind this camouflage lies the bare skin of a being, that still lives the nightmares of desolation. Having barely two souls to count on, who will hold me through the storm carrying me away, I feel as accustomed as aggrieved by this state of mine. With having no one to voice these thoughts of mine, all I have is this palette to bleed my words on, words that hardly have any meaning and are as good unwritten as they are when typed. With the security that hardly anyone who should be reading this will get to read this (or maybe a regret; it’s hard to tell), I can bleed raw without staining the clean sheets of a mood of the people I have given my all for.

The wind that’s singing an eerie tune makes me uncomfortable, as if someone is trying to talk to me out of my desolation, but having being accustomed to these unsung emotions, it feels strange, strange to even trust an uncanny emotion that my imagination provides to the winds, uncomfortable to ever open up to someone, talk about the daunting experience that my life has become when a single soul goes to sleep, leaving me alone to my world of loneliness. The words are as good as my tears now, they both have abandoned me as have the humans that were close to me. No reason to believe that I haven’t been at fault, and I being ready to apologize for all of it, provided I get the people I had back in my life, just in exchange for an answer – an answer explaining the part where I faltered. I am no superhuman, I do falter, but leaving me alone isn’t the best solution. Being punished for faults that didn’t even remotely involve me, breaks me down. And it being over six years when this first happened and I happened to loose the  first important set of people to me, I still haven’t come to terms to myself. Maybe change has always been the order of the day, and I lack it’s acceptance, or maybe at times my strength needs to falter to plug the holes in the wall around me. And that’s what I exactly am afraid of, building a wall so high that I, myself am unable to climb out of it and on a little introspection, this phenomenon does explain a lot about my behavior.

Friendship needs trust. New relations need sharing. I having lost enough people already am not ready to lose my guard to trust someone, to share parts of me. Or maybe am too afraid to be judged, which won’t directly affect me but I can’t suffer anymore alienation.

 

The Palette of Love.

Commencing from the merger of the two hearts, were a diaspora of emotions,

Emotions unfelt, emotions unfathomable and the emotions, that would be his solace in his era of darkness.

Ascending from their friendship, was a bond that’s stronger than all the others that exist anywhere in the universe or the multitude of them, that will last longer than time itself.

Arising from the amalgamation of souls, was a strength, a strength that would keep him riding the infinities of love for the centuries to come.

A description that’s apt to do justice to the relationship we have shared, is a possibility as faint as the sun rising from the west, but to try won’t be an injustice. An open letter to the person to whom I owe, every last breath that I take, to whom I owe the cure that I got to the paralysis of my emotions and to whom I owe, everything I am today. Dates may be be different as will be the words to describe all that I have for you, but trust me none would be suffice the feelings.

Lying in this pool of loneliness that arises without you beside me, is an impatient heart racing towards the time when I will be able to keep you in my arms for a time longer than any either of us have known. A long lasting wait, that I have grown accustomed to is a mind that misses the best part of it, which is seated deep inside you. An emotion as intense as the strength of a supernova, taking over me to leave it all out here and reach out to you and take you in my arms and pause the time at that very moment, so that it’s just the way I like it – Infinite, as is my love for you. Wiser people have said  that eternity and infinity are all but mere deceptions of mind, but they haven’t had you either. You are mine, and occupy all of my mind, you evil little angel.

I love you. Three words that changed my world forever, for the better or the worse I am too careless to judge, but three words that made me yours were also the ones that took my as far away from reality as could be, but who cares? I do, ’cause I miss you and this real world sucks, without you near me whispering into my ears the magic spells to Stupefy and Disarm the harshness of time and the world around me. You’re the patronus, that protects me from the cold and evil death-eaters that dwell in this lonely place, giving chills and taking away all the happiness from me and I wish I could whisper these words into your ears rather than typing it down on this page.

As is this post, a lonely beauty among the dark and grey emotions, so is your love for me, a diamond shining bright among all the darkness that eludes within. You’re the unicorn that gave me the Exilir to continue breathing, while I was dying, I wish I could do enough to thank you, but I have enough time for that.

You’re mine. Forever.

-The Illusionist

The Purples of Loneliness

Swept away in the conundrum of  memories crafted and handpicked to be stored in the pockets of emotions, over the years, dawning over me is a wave of nostalgia. A wave unlike any other that makes me believe that unlike now, I used to have friends. Friends whom I wanted to talk to, who I knew would be the there when I need them the most, but at this moment, all I can say I have is Turmoil. The confusion that the mind makes you believe you face, when you are in the clearest state of your mind – clear enough to show that you are all alone in this world, and all you have with you is a bucketful of memories that will eat you on the inside.

Living in a land that’s as distant from friends as I am close to a collapse, I am killed by the demons of hope. Hope that I might discover a new beginning at the time when we all actually face the end, or as optimistic ones choose to say  – A New Beginning. I used to be optimistic to say the least, but in a place where you are as alone as you can feel with the bustle of the people around you, you are bound to go into this turmoil and give yourself a false spark which is then magically transformed into a true slap on the face of hope, by the people whom I thought were my all, whom I thought would be with me till the end. It’s not that they are unaware, or maybe they choose to be. At a time, when people try to make memories, all I am doing is trying to find one, trying to find one chance to be memorable.

Maybe, I should have realized, that I was a fool, trying to find fragments of the lost relations; simply because there hardly are any left, they were all washed away in the tide of time where MY PEOPLE, the very same set of people I used to measure infinities with, found newer sets of souls maybe, the one’s better than me, the one’s who might not be in a state as miserable as me, might not be as alone as me? Am I right people? Addressed to the very same set of people who I thought would stay.

Enough of this serious shit, lets talk about the funny side of it! I wasn’t involved in any split up in that happened among these people who were like a dream come true for me. Well, on the face I am termed as the best of friends, maybe I did try to be one or maybe I tried a little to much, ’cause in that moment, I lost it all.. lost all the relations  and here I am, while you people enjoy your new set of friends, here I am amidst strange faces, entangled in stranger bonds, weak, feeble, broken and torn – All of the things that don’t define me.  Spoken, I might have about this strange new paranoia of mine, but yeah I am afraid, afraid to be friendly to anyone, afraid to be real, afraid to trust – because I never know when I might have to loose it all, when I might become the worst foe from the best friend.

Friendless – One word to sum up my state for the past few months; No one to talk to, no one to travel with, no one to go out with, no one to share with, no one to see the real me, and now is a seemingly a good time to wave off to each of you, a simple wave off to hope, maybe I might be blamed for trying a little too less, but as of now I wish I could have had friends that I had a couple of years ago, the one’s who actually felt me (or did you?).

Glaucophobia: The Fear of Gray

Amidst the nightmares of shambolic times, do I unlearn the art of loving,
Amidst the darkness of unheard tears, do I bleed my untold lores,
Amidst the madness of a frantic chase, do I loose the reigns of sobering hopes,
Amidst the noise of silent emotions, am I paralyzed by the demons of sober souls.

A blank verse, with a meaning as vague as the meaning of life to me in the current moment; In these moments do I feel the order in the chaos, an indistinct muttering of lonely souls. A soul, that is characterized by the laughter and smiles on its facade and an unending cave of agony lying beneath the false cover. The human that stopped being, the human who just was. Broken into fragments as fine as the grains of sand, do I breathe on the incense of the moments that’s vestige of  the storehouse of memories.

Culminating from deep within, withering with the passage of time, the facade seems to loose its sheen, with the pressure on the inside growing by leaps and bounds every moment that etches its existence in the timeline of this universe. I feel like a star, a star that’s battling the end, beginning to collapse on its own self, consuming all it could find of itself just to burn a little longer, and then collapses enough to blow it all apart, into the most splendid explosion that the universe witnesses.

Its not just the explosion that’s splendid, the most splendid moments appear of the blow-off, with whats left of the star, collecting material together, collapsing on itself again trying to sustain something out of nothing and then is the commencement of a journey that gives rise to the heavens or the monsters, thats where my wondrous mysticism takes me to, it’s where I fear being, the moments after the explosion. Every star explodes but some give rise to stupendous nebulae, while the others withdraw themselves from their surroundings so bad that they live off by feeding on the light and anything that comes their way, the black tormentors of the universe, the black hole.

I am not afraid to end, I am just unsure, unsure as to what will become of the face beneath the mask after loosing its original facade. The bigger the ending, the deadlier the new facade. But do I have a choice? And what if I did have a choice to choose what becomes of me?

Nebula or Black Hole?

Life Giver or Light Eater?

Beauty or Power?

The easier the words, the harder to choose. To many, the choice might be easy, the obvious positive, but when it comes down to beauty or power, I doubt many will remain fixated to their actual choice!