(rolls eyes) I know, right.

I have all the right ideas to say, stories to share and all the crazy stuff I have stumbled upon in my mind the thing is, I just don’t know how to start and end it, begin or content myself how to organize them, so all I can really just say for now, is this unimaginative self-absorbed pathetic innately non-anon blab on something irrelevantly incoherent. 

:)

What does it take to bring out the best in you!?

What does it take to dig deep!??

What does it take for you to do more?!

How much loss can there be for you to aim & win?!?

Downers, failure, loss & a leap on the edge,

Fear, crossroads, indecisiveness & inconclusive wishes,

Doubts, insecurities & at a loss of faith.

Above all these, one singled out truth… we are never sure of what lies next.

Shrouded, restrained, coerced & pushed over.

Unable to scream, barely standing still & almost in tears.

The strength you call, sanity says whatever that is makes you stupid.

The courage you think, the heart can barely make the torture.

Then you look on, bashed, bruised & beaten to a sore.

You look up, thought to yourself, that what terrifies the self is his own.

You slowly think, you felt that light feeling of fact & assurance,

You found out that amidst all these you had it there, inside you.

I just blurted out what I felt for the past few weeks since that day I failed myself; I glimpsed on and saw that what sorrow I felt was incomparable to none but my own. It took me a good self-ranting and pity to realize that I can make it this far, I just fall from a high hurdle in this difficult track of my Olympic life. 

And if I have reasons more to say will it be gladder to choose to be happy & not run away from all the sorrows, to what conclusive thought I’d say if I were to… Smile.

This Is My Depression.

The road went on past me, ahead is another winding bend and I cared not of what I’d see or hear. The directions were unclear, finding myself floating in space while at seat, holding on a clear sanity to stay still and focus. I would swerve, go to left and head right, pull back or move forward as if dissatisfied for what lies before me but a blank tarred slate of flat pavement.

There was a pause, amidst the clamor inside my thoughts, I beg not to dissipate into pieces, and the music in the background went on playing unnerved of its listener whether he listens or not, whether he understands every lyric or by staying there he could break down any moment. A dull moment not wanted by him and a scarred circumstance bearing down to whom that beholds it.

He was at still, he was whole from the outside but deep within him he was in pieces, hurtful shards too painful to keep lest a smile only can hide but never almost actually heal.

A Souls Alms.

Deep breaths, a soothe of fresh air, 

The slight tightness holding it back, 

Someone whispers, the voice not new,

The soul listens, rest assured, it stood still.

The panic gone, the shouts at a cease,

Lengthened at no pace, as if there were here to wait,

Shallow puffs came by, heaving calmly & slow,

A gulp of sanity & a grasp for dear life.

The figured moved as if none to what surrounds was not his.

There was a groan, from which it twitched,

A loud scream to those who empathizes the sufferer,

There was pain, not of stab or wound inflicted.

Where Are My Thoughts, My Heart & Myself!?

Cause once I found myself flying but with none to hover with.

I found trees, branches new from spring but with none to share with,
Fruits bearing down for my own satisfaction,
Roots held tight to climb on,
Yet with none to say which one is safer or to another to nest with.

I soar to what skies I reached of lands below I don’t know,
I went on to drink of vast oceans I came upon,
I rest the travels of time and see only a façade of colors,
Yet to that what seemed endless is a barren company of my own.

I never longed yet I asked for company,
I sought chances of meeting and see passing companions,
Each of their own directions, each of their wings.
I flapped on and wandered farther than thought.

Where is the mind to give when it has nothing to ponder with?
Where is the heart to seek when what is beyond blankly laid,
When will my feet start walking when the pavement stops a crack!?
Where is myself when I have none to be!??

Still & Grey.

Appalled, senseless and at a loss of words,

Not one of two or many to utter at the sight of decay.

Great strength and will commands those of my living,

But ‘til what extent, to what course and callousness should I conquer!?

My insides curled like the end slowly creeping in me,

That mere insight of youth suddenly stolen from me,

My own cadaver suddenly showing before me,

What makes of me beyond numbers and years, which is there to bid me safe!?

Questions & apprehensions flashing like a reeling tape in a movie house,

The haste of a soul dying reaped from behind of the grim visitor.

Fear, loss and irrationalities scared the child within,

From what stone the heart cried for help, safety & reason.

I am in a place where illness and that what is rancid compel the light.

Those that walk the halls at bay of what they don’t know they have or may get,

A sanctuary of gloom, infirmary & demise.

I am at my own dilemma, a choice of a putrefied soul barely heaving for breath.

I gulped the huge air of courage and kept on, 

Unnerved from those of my companions that at my absence I just saw my life,

I sat on that chair, kept my distance to self and said,

“I am a nurse & I am here to give care”

The Nuisance, A Gore.

Past 3 of the 20th minute pass the first hour to dawn; here I am awake with what is left of my nap. My demise has long gone haunted me, the fallout of my actions too far to chase started. I am in a state of incoherence, the being that is in me begs for a respite.

















Tin cans a folding, cigar butts scorched,
Crumpled papers to and fro they flew,
Pens mangled in pieces, books torn,
And there is but an empty room with a human.

Lost, drained and ill,
Unclean, cobwebbed corners stood by,
The noisy sound of a sour ventilation rings along,
And a hanging of scattered belongings wreath beyond.

What cure of this indolent character that reeks what owns?
To what course shall it take for what should be undone!?
That which is alike of end to that started.
Then to any neither mistakes pardoned nor attitude learnt.