One fine summery saturday evenin..Wen al's chaotic n jammed in pearl planet

Wats bad and wats not

Wat warrants apologies

Wat warrants confrontations

None I guess

The whole point of the story is that

I cant always be left to myself

And expected to turn out full bloom

Well maybe I should, ideally speaking

But fact remains

I cannot just go on just because I have to

Not now, not forever

Is there a pattern building up in all of this?

Of course not

There is a definitive difference

Between a one time fling

And a full time affair

And then obsession is an altogether different thing

Th point is.. well

I really don’t kno

I will not let this build up

That is for certain

But yea it was a crazy thing t do..

I gues.. J

I love nor hate

I pray nor wait

I sing but not

for someone I ought

I ought? Are you sure?

I look no more

To see if he’s coming

There’s no one there

Don’t you know?

Cant you see

As I see it?

There IS no one

There wont be him, that I’m sure of

What’s it you say?

There ought another, to be?

Oh yes? That’s what you feel?

Well, I know.

And this you should too.

Sit up, straight, you there

And listen, to what I say to you

I will not tell you words you’ve already heard

I will not chant sermons of life oh so sweetly

I tell you this, instead

Life, is too long

Too weird, not always a song

I wont preach I dare not teach

But live it all

As t’were the last

For most are, until they really are

The last, but then its too late

And you remain a lesson

Only for some other

Who wont, mightn’t and perhaps even shouldn’t, learn

For each his life has his own set of lessons

Live yours

To learn yours

Go on living

Keep showing up

Disheartened, yes

Desolate, yes

Alone, yes

Totally lost, yes

But keep living

Keep showing up

Keep going on

Until one fine day, you walk here no more

And walk elsewhere, where, we shall see

Sense and the Senseless?

You mean the world to me. I need you to be with me unto eternity. You are all that matters or makes sense anymore. I could not go on without you. It’s a humungous void without you. I wish you’d never have to leave. You make life seem like a nicer thing. You make living worthwhile. You render meaning to my existence. If not for you, I don’t know if I would have gone on living. If I had not found you, I would have kept looking. It could never be anyone else but you. You are the essence of my life. Without you, I am a desert, vast, expansive, but dry and mostly dead. And even if found to be harboring life, only the defunct and detestable kinds. Oh dear! What would have ever happened to me if not for you? Tosh! Puppy crap! Does any of that make sense? If that doesn't, as it shouldn’t, what ought to? Hmm. Science, I suppose. Market structures I’m thinking. Logic, I know. Sense, above all. And every realm and area that it encompasses and those myriad other known and unknowns that await the magical kiss of introspection, silently slumbering away until someone stumbles upon them.

Simply Put

A devouring cause. A cause that could actually eat into you. a cause that would eat into your very being and evaporate your existence step by step, inch by inch. It would leave no traces soon enough. And then there would be nothing to speak of. Not you. Not anything. Such is the cause that is needed. Perhaps situations or rather people decide such causes. Actually, what goes into a cause makes it worth all that much. The ruling purpose behind that cause is just what the people involved in it have attributed to it. Or, is it? It’s not unlikely that the people outside this cause, the spectators, have disregarded a cause and have hence been responsible for its slow death and its going unnoticed in the annals of history.
The point now really is, that I need to attribute that kind of do or die importance to some cause already existent in my unflattering existence. Or, if lucky, find some such convenient cause I can adopt. Or, here’s something that can probably really put some meat on it. Maybe I can do everything that comes my way like it’s a do or die cause. Its worth dying for. Of course that would be deception of the self of the first order. But who cares. I have myself something engaging to do. And I have my mind off the things that I will do good to not obsess over. Why do things always sound so simple in principle? And so herculean in retrospect? I have heard that personal tragedies bring out the best in all of our celebrated love poets and poetesses of history. I didn’t quite think that rule would permeate down to the likes of me. Okay, now that is one first order confession. Not that it should mean much anyways. Ah well, vanity thy name, miss. Maybe self obsessions are more like it. It’s not really a crime though, if you ask me, unless someone else is encumbered by it! I don’t suppose a lot would disagree on that one. Anyways, to my devouring cause now. And that would be, I am guessing, a book, that is called lion taming. It’s about coping with and managing all the undesired forces at your places of work. Need references from it anyone? Lol.

For lack of something better

Miniscule and trivial as the cause may seem, for lack of a better cause, life seems distraught. To what occasion I owe this wrought of unrest and fraught of the more benign spirit of humankind, I may not and cannot concede to whatever hungry ears and eyes may now be devouring this piece of utter un-worth.

Thou art here and I know it. To what imaginable usage that can be put, is a question unto eternity? Is it thine intellectual disposition or your predecessor’s ineffable affection? What is it that hast bound me so? Which of you has my emotions chained rendering them unemployable for any other? Can I accredit you with so much for a mere acquaintance of a few months? Or can I undermine the impact of your predecessor’s affliction to the heart whose echoes leave me not after all the time that hast past?

For lack of a more noble and worthy cause, for lack of a more engaging habit, for lack of a more driving purpose, for lack of some source of engulfing employment I submit to thee, the most unworthy of causes, thou love.

Dramatic

A female is dancing. She dances showing what once was. She dances and dances and dances till all her energy has been exhausted. And when you think her desperate death dance is going to stop, she begins to go round and round. She turns and turns and turns, showing her agony in her face. And as she does this, her face and hands gently rise up in appeal. To whom? I wish I knew. They rise and finally she falls. Incapable of any further movement, she drops, lost in abysmal unconscious, dead to the world above and around that stands in mock dismay at a performance. That applauds a performance. That applauds what it perceives, to be a performance. A performance it is, a recital. A display, a show! Of a dying soul. Of a heart long dead. Of a being extinguishing. Of a thin wisp of white smoke that escapes out of that befallen being. Out of a being that once was. Now all that is left is a materially mortal remain only which the world has ever seen, or been able to see. Has at least that being that now lies dead to the applause ever seen anything more of itself than does its audience now? I wish there was some sort of affirmative, however miniscule. Alas. Mercy is not to be had. What is this? Tears? At a death dance? Whatever for? If nothing, you at least would’ve had enough sense to foresee this, I am hoping. You saw this. You predicted this. You knew it was due and you saw it coming. And yet, your all pervasive knowledge helped you not, in doing anything about it. You knew of its death. And you chose to be a spectator. So be it.

Some One Day

I am a lot more than all that. And I will prove it to you. Someday, when I am ready to show you and when you are willing perhaps. You presumptuous beetle, you. You thought you could write just because you had the tools to pen down in front of you? What is the extent of your knowledge? What have you been able to comprehend so far? What makes you think that what you say shall stand the test of time, let alone, a few other peers? What makes you think that you can come up with a random bunch of sentences and just get them to be passed on as your words? Do you know that events have consequences in the form of other events? Don’t you even know that what you say unpreceeded by thought, as always, has implications and shall indeed affect others around you and alter the way they perceive and react to you? don’t you even understand the fundamental fact that those others around you are human and not necessarily naively humane enough to excuse your idiocy of emotion and will not stand to stand by you no matter what? What blinds you from the fact that... you are meant to walk the path yourself. Yes, you are here by yourself. No matter what you do and how you do it to curtain and shield yourself from it, you are bound to be so. Yes, they will not come. Neither him nor him. Your way is perhaps as yet undefined in your mind’s eye. But already defined, it is. And you shall go just that way, like it or not. And reach you will, that ultimate pinnacle of destinations, whatever that may be for you. So stop not, that will not help you. Doubt not, that will not push you. Believe, blindly if need be, in the strength of the purpose of your creation and sustenance till date. And keep hitting.