Posts Tagged ‘fallen’

I have seen mighty minds crumble, the sane go insane, and the resolute losing their temper, the brave becoming wimps, faces being forgotten and children absconding. Now that I think of it, all of it has happened around me. When I dip my head into retrospection, I notice all the fingers point to me. It feels like an epiphany, a revelation:

It has been me all along!

Sometimes I wonder if I am at the bottommost layer of the human emotional evolutionary chain. That I think too much and that maybe it would one day be the reason for my passing.

How are others nailing it so well? How are they able to laugh through it all? Why are they so unfazed?

I feel I am very hard to live with, that I push people away. Unknowingly but voluntarily, I often end up forcing myself into my very own fortress of solitude. No wonder I choose to live alone in my dusky lair.

It is almost as if I seek grief deliberately. That I have always headed towards a disquieting pit ahead, and no amount of saving could actually save me. My downfall was written in the stars, and this is how I was meant to go. Sulking over spilled milk, lost under a countless what ifs, with a mind brooding over different outcomes and a body playing out different stories.

I have often heard people talking, how if there were no bad times you wouldn’t know how to appreciate the good ones. Then I wonder what if I like bad times? What if it makes me feel alive, makes me feel what people feel when they talk about living on the edge. What if I am more of me in its company? What if I am trying to forever seek a tearpit hammock to rest?

I might like this waning, the bittersweet demise of my body that gradually takes me away into the oblivion. What bothers me the most is my blunt malignancy whilst getting there. The repercussions that emanate therefrom hurt others in the process. That’s what is killing!

When I see all those fallen people around me, I can’t help but curse myself:

What have I done?

In my brazen meanness to get what I want, I end up doing the despicable. I end up torturing them, burning them down with my pathetic rancour.

What did they do to deserve me in the first place?

Insecurities follow me like little ducklings around and they mess up everything good going on in my life. They smear my face with its kohl making me beyond obvious. What a tragedy to be me!

Only a fool would wish to stay. To knowingly entwine their lives into mine and welcome their slow death. I can’t do that to a person. It’s a cost that would go down really heavy on my head.

All this contemplation often directs my thoughts to other grief-stricken souls in the world. In my very own private moments, I often think out loud:

Are there others like me?

And if yes, how are they still alive?

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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.

The Perpendicular universe Fallen from a horse There isn’t a body around me. No one I could call mine. No one who could call me his. Seems everything is crouching away from me, cringing its claws into the hollows of self-absorption. I have seen people do that. Forget you! Like you never existed, or existed but only as a background noise.

I remember the swell times I have spent with my brother, sharp as a crystal and clear as a conscience, talking for hours without taking a breath to think. Unending ceaseless talks they were, that would beat time. We would sway into the space like a bunch of curious astronauts and explore the unexplored stars. Our imagination – our telescopes. We would throw our nets into the dark, and catch fishes made of twinkles. We didn’t need anybody to guide us. We would learn from our mistakes, learn from our words. Our lips taught us what teachers couldn’t. Hours and hours of invested time that bore only fruits!

As a kid, my mum would often instruct him to hold my hand and never let go. To take care of me always. “Because he is still very young and he doesn’t know the ways of the wicked world.” It sometimes makes me picture it like this:

I see my mum waving us farewell for a journey I am too scared to take. But I am not alone and not on my own because I have my brother to call the shots. He is on a steed and been instructed to take me with him. I am sitting behind him holding him, with my arms wrapped around his waist. I turn around with a quivered brow and tearful eyes to take one last look at my mother. She is still busy asking him to go slowly and take care of me. That I am still very young and might fall off the horse. She then looks at me and smiles, and mouths, “Hold your brother tighter!” I firm up my grip. The horse takes off and gallops its way into the blue. We enjoy the cool breeze that giggles in our hair. The journey seems everlasting and we keep galloping playing to the rhythm of the gravel.

I am holding him with a comforting heart. The fact that I am not alone on the saddle soothes me. I try to close my eyes as the steed paces harder. Then suddenly I feel myself heaving up. My hand loosening its grip. The horse jumps over a hurdle, and then resumes its journey. But…..But I have fallen. I am on the ground. I am hurt. I am in pain. I can’t open my mouth to tell him that I have been left behind. I try my best to, but I simply can’t. I just make a silent scream, more of a complaint, that my brother has forgotten about me. He is still riding the horse. Still enjoying the gust in his hair. Whilst I sit in the dust the horse made through its tracks. Covered in red and filth.

He got married. Someone dearer walked into his life, and he lost focus. Suddenly I began to wither. Suddenly I began fading away as if I was a puny mote from a cloud of dust caught up in a strong rush. Our ceaseless talks ceased. Our fire simply ran out. My cords cut. I was left to float alone in the space. I was just left stranded. As if he raced the horse too fast, and forgot all about me. Forgot that his waist carried tiny hands that held him with a promise of eternity. My eyes are still complaining: But mom said, “Take care of your brother!”

I am fallen. I am scared. I am all alone. I guess there comes a time in our lives when we are supposed to feel that way. When people juggle with their priorities and choose someone else to you. I remember the time when I would have blasts with my cronies. Now I often sit in the second seat waiting for my turn to come. I hate that feeling. However honest it might sound I am still a kid waiting to be loved. Waiting for that horse to turn, and come pick me up!

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Okay so I puked. For like real.

We went to an amusement park. Truth: I wasn’t amused. Others were. I really don’t understand how easily I give in. I regret it, ‘after’ doing it.

I am not into joy rides. I am not made for that. Not my department. All I remember doing that day, was screaming, at the top of my voice, like a girl. In my defense I would say, I faced it all like a brave man, only with frequent screams of horror.

I would always say no to begin with, and end up doing it just to give company to my little sisters. I didn’t want to disappoint them so I ended up disappointing myself instead. Boy it was all horror, staring back at me and he was like, “Yeah I was waiting for you. I’ll spoil your guts now. You shouldn’t have had breakfast dumbass. I’ll show you who the real boss is.” Meanwhile, I was like, “Mommmmmmmmmy!”

My brother kept telling me to try the boat. My sisters insisted. With constant blathering going on in the background, I involuntarily created an image of a real boat with oars and some water beneath to row on.

My inquisitiveness was duped big time, when I discovered it was a dragon-boat swinging like a pendulum, staring back at me. Images from the past started haunting me. I remembered that thing. I had been a passenger once, in that creature before. It didn’t end well. Then again, I was a kid then.

Anyways, with dilated eyes, I started reckoning my other options. However, I wish I shouldn’t have manifested any ventures.

This could’ve been the scenario:

I looked back at all the rides. They all were fallen. Vanquished. One of the roller coaster rides didn’t even stand a chance. It never saw me coming. I had lanced it before it picked its sword. Those toy cars had never met such a rash driver. They had never been drifted like that before. Some of the rides were puny enough for my minions to handle. I didn’t even look at them. They were dead already.

I beheld the dragon once again. This is the last one, I thought. “I can’t go home without taming YOU bitch. I have come too far to return. I am away from home. I don’t know if there would be any return. The battle might turn fiery and deadly. I wouldn’t abscond. I wouldn’t leave without slaying you.” I thought, “What the hell?”

I rode the dragon with all my might. The pressure was immense. All hell broke loose. Fire was everywhere. The last one is always the toughest, so I thought. I got bruised. The dragon fire blazed my neck. But my heart was still pumping. Adrenaline gushing. I was waiting for the right moment. Exhaustion engulfed the beast slowly. Eventually the dragon subdued. It was then when I struck like lightning and tore the creature open.

Interesting, huh? Too good to be true.

Here’s the non-fiction version:

One of the roller coaster rides had no attendees so we skipped it. (This explains the ‘never-saw-me-coming’ part :P) The car ride was okay. Nothing real. Some rides were so scary that I screamed at the mere sight of them. So I decided not to make a fool out of myself. I let my brother and sisters ride them instead (my minions). I was ‘compelled’ to sit in that demonic boat. My sisters literally pulled me into the heart of the dragon. I kept my eyes closed all the time. Opened my orbs once, when instigated. My head started spinning. As the boat was about to stop, I puked like a mad man. Not on people (Just relax!). The burning sensation in my neck lasted for hours. So it wasn’t a happy ending exactly.

Yeah! I am a wimp.