11.01 pm, 27th September, 2015
There’s no particular emotion I write this with. Nor the intent, nor the will. But some things, as I’ve began to pick from my evolving experiences; because learning is and always has been an expanding curve, are simply needed to be done.
The clock in my immediate vicinity shows that both hands have finally joined themselves in unison and called it a day. A symbolic gesture for all those earthlings and non-earthlings who have hopelessly hoped for the demise of this disdainful day.
I can hear it. I can feel the pointy sharp mechanical twitch meddling with my train of scattered thoughts, rushing towards my eardrum like a gush of unheard sounds finding for an audience.
All they are looking for is a mouthpiece, or a sound horn.
All they want to do is to be heard.
All they want is to find emotional relief.
All they want is respite , from the muck that pounds their conscience.
All they want, is everything we want.
Human. Non Humans. Regardless.
Trouble touches all.
Makes us the children of same mother. Moulds of same mud. Travelers of the same magic bus.
Everyone is a traveler, with cycles of joy and sadness being just another stop at the omega station.
About the mouthpiece. Maybe I’m in a dire need of one.
One would do,though.
The time for me to hold my train of thoughts has finally arrived. This is a self made opportunity and I’m counting on it to succeed. There is so much to be told, to be understood, to evaluate and re evaluate.
In a nutshell, I write today to become a betterment of my current self, for at stake is the love of dear and near ones which I have lost. Make no mistake, for there’s no portal at play here to turn things back the way they were.
Regardless, it would result in a paradox, leaving the world with even more severe wounds and also, punctured lungs.
The mind is a marvel.
A warehouse of memories.
A jar of thoughts.
A colossally huge library with different emotions neatly stacked in distinct shelves.
Emotion. This will be my savior now. I will attempt to retrace my steps and earnestly search of what I’ve said or done that has led to this point of starvation.
It is the worst thing, to be starved.
Continue reading “Midnight Monologues Part 1”