Sunday 4 December 2011

I call bluff.

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.

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