The Epitome of Uncertainty and Incoherence
Friday, June 8
I wish I had killed someone, or committed some other heinous a long time ago.
The whisper that echoes through my mind as I picture myself blowing a cake, because in few minutes, I would cease to be a kid and I would be tried and punished to the fullest extent of the Law. By midnight, I would officially be an adult citizen.
18 years, and I'm still wobbling in my baby legs, walking down a path that leads to nowhere, groping desperately for purpose in this meaningless existence. Nearly two decades have past, but they have lost their meaning, if they ever had a meaning. It was as if all this time I've been sleeping, occasionally waking up only to find out that the calendar has a new number on it. And each time trying to look back but only see a recurring dream:
A dream of a man lying prostrate on the ground, as everything around him zooms by, whirling, dancing, evolving, and dying. The world passes by in the blink of an eye, and in the end is just an old cobblestone country road, extending into the horizon. The road was straight, defined, and cleared. And at the end of the road was the warm promise of light, seductive, enticing, and elusive. But now that he has reached the line where the horizon was, he sees nothing but dull grey skies blocking out the sun, covering the road in long deep shadows, shadows of a man distant yet unsettingly and disturbingly, familiar.
So here I am lying down on what could be my deathbed, trying to contemplate on the last minutes of my life. Should I put an end to it all now, hold this life in my hands and choke it, strangle it, and castrate it? Or wait another year, a decade, or even a century for those last few minutes, wait for the right time to hear the sound of her wings, and finally recieve her gift, or the high cost of living? Neither, because now is not the right time.
For now, I'll live on, looking forward to that day. Living a life, that would someday, be worth ending at last.
Labels: doldrums, Hapi Bday, suicidal
thrown by A.Paul @ 23:53,
,
Annuities
Sunday, April 29
So, this garbage has been reeking for a year now, congrats to no one and everyone.... And what better way to celebrate and commemorate the occasion than to repeat, or rather surpass, last year's self-proclaimed world record of 5 hours doing nothing but pondering about the mess I call my life. I'm very proud (or shouldn't I?) that this year, I've broken my record by just sitting in one place doing nothing for 6, I repeat six, hours.
Morning found me confused and shaken, thinking whether or not I'm really awake, because every time someone calls out to wake me up for breakfast, I'm sure I stand right up and perform my morning rituals. But about in the middle of taking a shower, I suddenly find myself exhumed from the depths of slumber, turns out that it was just a dream and I'm actually still lying prostrate in my bed. And when I finally got up in reality, I droned on only to end up in cottage on a resort/water amusement park. I've no intention yet of working up a tan, or to be more appropriate a rosy black sunburn, so I decided to be completely geeky; just stay in the shade and review at the last minute for my math exams. Two hours passed and I finally finished studying, and in the next few hours my mind wandered far enough to remember that it's actually this Dump's birthday. I looked back and asked myself: "What has happened within a year of playing with trash?" "Has anything changed in this extremely stoic person(except in outbreaks of paroxysm)?".
A year has passed and looking back, there hasn't been much progress, only the illusion of progress. Answering the questions facing me only led to more questions. And with each passing day, I feel less and less myself, bits and parts of me are flying high in the air ending up as a part of this dump. But what is the self? Nothing but a transfiguring blob evolving and devolving at a moment's notice. Given this, would I still continue and push on with dumping here? Probably, there's no such thing as a hiatus with this Dump anyway, there are no butts to kiss, just a mirror to talk to.
A year of lurking in all this filth, do I feel disgusted? Not even the slightest. After all, one man's trash is another man's treasure, it's all just a matter of perspective.
Happy Birthday, ye olde bastard!
Labels: Hapi Bday
thrown by A.Paul @ 20:54,
,
