From: India
About me: About me? Well.. Recluse, dysphoric, morose, inane, insane, caffeine-addict, misread, ascetic, platitudinal, dreamer, volatile, scathing, auspicate, deviant, disparate, iridescent, chatoyant, irate, morbid, colors, canvas, creation, hue, saturation, redemption, vehement, profound, intense, abysm, aphoristic, bound? Creative, encumbered, blasphemous, extant, sentient, opiate? Absurd, moronic, loony, preposterous, harebrained? Plastic blue conversations, paradoxes, anomalies, threnodies, acousmas, delusions, illusions, soliloquies?
Sunday, March 04, 2007,11:47 PM
Blue waters in Distant shores.....
I don't really care if the title doesn't make much sense. Its from a song that's playing in my head.
It makes me feel sad, in a strange way. Not morose, or depressed. But, forlorn.
I think of Dad.
I wonder, are the waters blue at his end?
How distant are those shores? Are there beautiful sunsets or sunrises? Or is it far more beautiful than it could ever be here, on earth?
What panoramas dwell there?
A lot of people I talk to ask me to move on.
Some of them come up with philosophies. Not that I suspect their motives. Just that, weird philosophies like these make me see red.
"A man once said that whats gone cannot see you, cannot hear you. When you worry, they're just something that were. If you look behind, you'll miss the part of the road you're walking on"
I dislike philosophies, and to say that I hate them, would be an understatement. I don't believe in philosophies anymore and I don't believe that you can really, truly, forget people who have left.
And for all the times that u say that you've moved on, you're lying.
A white lie, but a lie nonetheless.You forget so many things in order to forget the pain and sometimes, you also forget that you bleed just to know you're alive.
To this, I was told that it is okay to remember but, one must not cry or worry oneself.
According to me, this is hard to do since there's always a void left behind by the person. Its easy to ask others to not cry or worry or bother because no matter what is said or done, the void always exists.
Pretending that its not there makes it even worse.
I don't really care if the title doesn't make much sense. Its from a song that's playing in my head.
It makes me feel sad, in a strange way. Not morose, or depressed. But, forlorn.
I think of Dad.
I wonder, are the waters blue at his end?
How distant are those shores? Are there beautiful sunsets or sunrises? Or is it far more beautiful than it could ever be here, on earth?
What panoramas dwell there?
A lot of people I talk to ask me to move on.
Some of them come up with philosophies. Not that I suspect their motives. Just that, weird philosophies like these make me see red.
"A man once said that whats gone cannot see you, cannot hear you. When you worry, they're just something that were. If you look behind, you'll miss the part of the road you're walking on"
I dislike philosophies, and to say that I hate them, would be an understatement. I don't believe in philosophies anymore and I don't believe that you can really, truly, forget people who have left.
And for all the times that u say that you've moved on, you're lying.
A white lie, but a lie nonetheless.You forget so many things in order to forget the pain and sometimes, you also forget that you bleed just to know you're alive.
To this, I was told that it is okay to remember but, one must not cry or worry oneself.
According to me, this is hard to do since there's always a void left behind by the person. Its easy to ask others to not cry or worry or bother because no matter what is said or done, the void always exists.
Pretending that its not there makes it even worse.
Saturday, March 03, 2007,3:47 AM
Ashes to Snow..
People move apart. The distance between friends grows, rendering them to be near strangers.
Somewhere along the line people stop making the effort to reach out to their friends.
People they once knew. People they once laughed with, cried with, shared the simple joys of life with. People they once knew.
People they once loved.
Why is it that we stop caring? Why is it that we get so caught up in our own lives that we can't even turn back and see that there is someone who is standing at the same crossroads where we once used to walk with them?
Why is it that we've left them waiting for some sign of affection?
The familiar touch of gentle hands.. The sound of the delirious, silvery laughter.. The countless moments spent in comfortable silences..
The exasperations.. The frustrations.. The aspirations.. The expectations?
Why are all of these suddenly lost upon us? How blind are we, that we cannot descry how our thoughtless ways affect someone?
Someone spends blind nights, devoid of hope and love, seeking in vain, that feeling of security that they once cherished and found blessedness in; while we go about our daily lives without so much as a casual glance at that one corner of that bright room that lies encased in shadows, waiting for someone to illumine it.
It is said that distance makes the heart grow fonder.. If it were true, then many a weary hearts would have been gladdened and many a hopes would have found sanctuary, instead of being shattered and disillusioned.
Why is it that we must display this phantasm of attachment when we couldn't be less detached ourselves? Why is it that we take flights of fantasy with them only to abandon them midway; leaving them yearning to fall asleep just so that they can dream that dream once again?
And if we do care, then why don't we let them know? Surely, we wouldn't lose anything by saying a few tender words of affection. Surely it wouldn't hurt to let someone know that we will always be there, come what may.
Till then,
those eyes will still look expectantly towards the desolate crossroads.. those hands will still yearn for the touch of another..
People move apart. The distance between friends grows, rendering them to be near strangers.
Somewhere along the line people stop making the effort to reach out to their friends.
People they once knew. People they once laughed with, cried with, shared the simple joys of life with. People they once knew.
People they once loved.
Why is it that we stop caring? Why is it that we get so caught up in our own lives that we can't even turn back and see that there is someone who is standing at the same crossroads where we once used to walk with them?
Why is it that we've left them waiting for some sign of affection?
The familiar touch of gentle hands.. The sound of the delirious, silvery laughter.. The countless moments spent in comfortable silences..
The exasperations.. The frustrations.. The aspirations.. The expectations?
Why are all of these suddenly lost upon us? How blind are we, that we cannot descry how our thoughtless ways affect someone?
Someone spends blind nights, devoid of hope and love, seeking in vain, that feeling of security that they once cherished and found blessedness in; while we go about our daily lives without so much as a casual glance at that one corner of that bright room that lies encased in shadows, waiting for someone to illumine it.
It is said that distance makes the heart grow fonder.. If it were true, then many a weary hearts would have been gladdened and many a hopes would have found sanctuary, instead of being shattered and disillusioned.
Why is it that we must display this phantasm of attachment when we couldn't be less detached ourselves? Why is it that we take flights of fantasy with them only to abandon them midway; leaving them yearning to fall asleep just so that they can dream that dream once again?
And if we do care, then why don't we let them know? Surely, we wouldn't lose anything by saying a few tender words of affection. Surely it wouldn't hurt to let someone know that we will always be there, come what may.
Till then,
those eyes will still look expectantly towards the desolate crossroads.. those hands will still yearn for the touch of another..
I travel for you around the world,
Collecting moments, o how absurd
To bring you beauty, to bring you joy,
I wish I'd be a little boy..
Where is that silence you promised me?
Why is that distance so close to me?
Why is your violence still hurting me?
Why are your eyes avoiding me?
And maybe I'll be better off without you,
You left me here with all my thoughts..
I'd write a zillion words or walk a million miles..
I'd sleep on broken glass just not to lose your smiles..
Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net
