Posts Tagged ‘doom’

The Perpendicular Universe Conveyors of Doom

I have always hated my job. This isn’t the first time I am writing of the insouciance I have for it. The idea of spending, nay, slaying 8 hours a day doing something that hardly creates a ripple in life has always peeved me. I look at it as outright slavery. Bearing whips after whips to fulfil someone else’s dreams. The fact that I stand at such a puny corner of an organization that barely cares for my existence is another bummer. It is like how it makes me feel when I think about how akin mote I am to the galaxy. Unseen, my struggle barely displaces a stone, whilst unperturbed the company I work for grinds its gears to churn more like me. Robots, we are! Stark robots we are, only working to recharge our batteries.

I get this empty feeling sometimes like I have been sucked out of life. That I am being pushed by people behind to keep me moving or I will clot the line. But what I don’t understand is why am I going with the flow in the first place? Why can’t I just step aside for a second, find my own way, and create my own lanes instead?

I wish to quit at once, start with my own personal ambitions. My creative hands keep fidgeting for creation. But unfortunately they need more time. My job doesn’t let me live enough to spare a few hours for my dreams. It scoops me like I must be some kind of personal serf. It uses me thorough and good, and drops me lifeless and hollow.

I am a sucker for time, but I feel it’s running out. The time with me, the sole crux of life, is slipping out. I am on a conveyor belt doomed to take things into the crusher. It is going to eat me alive, I know. I am well aware of its awaiting jaws. But I can’t move. Even though there is a will to jump off the belt for a second, people wouldn’t let me. They are holding my legs with feigned responsibilities, fake love and faux care. What I truly believe is “If you really care for someone just let them go.” But they are too stupid to believe that.

When will I do, what I am supposed to do? Will it take another lifetime?

The perpendicular universe broken

We are the broken people. The fallen souls. The shattered hearts. The twisted, constricted echoes of a hollow body. We don’t make a sound. We croon. We weep. We are always crying, fading away gradually from the inside. Our angst nibbles us every moment. It grazes us quietly as if we are its pasture.

Our shrieks go unheard. Silent muffled screams that don’t make it to fruition. Like mumbles they wither away into eternity. We bear tears. Like clouds hold an imminent downpour. They are always hanging there. Surmounted by our feigned ego and false strength.

It is hard to figure us out. You wouldn’t know it is us. You wouldn’t be able to put a pin to our emotions. We trudge the earth like dinosaurs waiting for the dreadful meteor. Maybe eyeing that impending doom and waiting for it to swallow us. We wish death. We seek it in every little thing we do. We prefer living on the edge.

We breathe in shadows. An abyss so dark and void of hope, we enjoy its presence around us. We love the way it engulfs us. We rejoice its gnawing. We wish to be eaten away. Pain has no meaning for us. Because we are written in it. We relate to the fallen. There is beauty only we can perceive in it. The trampled leaves and crumpled grass appeal to us. The chewed up and spit out souls rivet us.

We aren’t afraid of the dark. We love to feel its claws on us, its punishing jaws that make a silent promise to tear us apart. Blood is a gift. Every smear is an orgasmic pleasure. We are penned in gore, and seek it in every act.

There is no path for us. Because to be honest, there is none. We know it is all in our head. We know everything will boil down to naught. No matter what you do. No matter where you go. We are aware, we will stay, right here.

We don masks. Masks of a fake smile, of a lying head that you can never see through. Every jovial act is ephemeral. Your laugh is evanescent. To us it is just a moment that shalt pass. Long lasting is our woe. It will remain. Perennial!

We prefer the silence. Because it speaks. Bazillion words, if not for your ears, then for our heads.

We are omnipresent. We walk amongst you. Unseen. Unnoticed. Uncared. Yet we don’t worry. Because we know, nothing matters, and nothing ever will.

We are the broken people.