Thursday, 15 December 2011
I woke up this morning realizing I had too quickly and far too suddenly grown up. The age bit is hitting me just now and everything has the word 'future' in it. As clichéd as it is and we all know how hard I work to stay the hell away from that, it seems like yesterday I was imagining flying dragons on the wall of my bedroom, or like yesterday I was wondering how useful intentionally drowning....ookay it's not been all that great. But still, I feel like I'm running out of time in some cosmic way. Tick tock. How ironic to be running out of time for immortality. Where do I fit in all things greatness-related? In the past it seems things could exist for the simple act of existing, now it's all how they fit into life's equation. But why should any of it have to change, I know I die the day I conform, the day I accept, the day I be a victim of anything other than myself. Like Aragorn says in return of the king ' There is a day you will fall. But it is not this day.' or something or the other. I want the freedom of my own mind again. The freedom to be at odd intervals in a world where I'm the fairest in all the land and I have a tiny cottage by the lake (my current house is also by a lake just btw) and where people I hate can be beheaded in a violent fashion. Ah, the possibilities. Life might just start reeking of them and there's no reason to stop now.
Sunday, 4 December 2011
I've always been somewhat constant. Everything has always been measured in forever, as if everything goes on in some way. That I'm always supposed to be something, some kind of something till the end of it. So constant that I should already know how it ends.I should be sure of what I want and it should never be denied to me. The natural order of things as they call it. But I'm wrong. I always have been. I'm on the verge of realizing something except I'm not ready to allow myself that, because it might mean I'm on my own again.But I was always alone. Does the pain keep me away from a bigger emptiness? Is that why I cling to hurtful things now, why I've stopped craving freedom, why I just can't wake up even now without the thought of it? Like I told one of my friends once 'either someone will mean everything to me or nothing at all.' Did you know exactly what you felt, were you sure of it when you felt it? Did you wake up every morning knowing with absolute irrefutable certainty that this is what will finish you off, what had a right, what was meant for it? I'm calling your bluff. You can't possibly be me, even I can't be me. Somewhere less than human and yet crippled in a way no human can know. Worse part is, it's a hell of a decision to make.