This post now also features in the Tangy Tuesday Picks at Blogadda. Dear You, It’s been a while since I have written to you. But then it’s also been a while that I’ve spoken to myself. We are sometimes mirror images,you see. I’d forgotten that it is important to write whatever you feel, whenever you feel it. Even when there is a void staring at you; especially when there is a void staring you. Even if it means to write out of that vacuum that you have been in for so long. Because while this vacuum can make you feel special in moments when you may not be so special, it can also make you feel deserted and worthless even when you may be scripting history. But you still write, because maybe, if ever you have the time to look back from the gung-ho your life has become some years down, these moments will smile and remind you in hushed whispers how defining they were, whilst they were disappearing into thin air. So write. I have been jogging daily instead of writing, and that’s not because I …
“… I close the door after they leave… " She managed to say, after resting her palpitating heart. “What has happened?”he asked calmly “I don’t know ... they told me something and then left … I don't feel anything now… I am numb …" "Who were they?" "Some men in uniform... I do not know them" “Can you see yourself?” “Yes”, I am young and am wearing a pinafore”, “and… I feel
heavy and am in physical discomfort…” she follows soonafter. “Oh! Is there anyone around you?” “No… I am alone … all alone… there is no one around me…” “Can you tell what year or what place is it?” “No.” “Okay. Go out of the door and see where you are” “I am too weak to step outside … I am now sitting on the floor of
the house… I feel a sense of betrayal and abandonment…I dunno why though” “Okay, no problem. Go back in time. I know it’s hard but
please try…”he asked her. Slowly, her facial muscles relaxed and her breathing became
regular. “What do you see now?”he asked. “There is food and wine e…
At the end of it all, I wonder,Why do I do what I do?And with every second passing by,Something inside me dies and, something brews … They say we have a mind and that it’s beautiful,They also say that its one cold beast,But then why does it conflate with emotions? And in the face of you, all reasoning cease? And still wondering, I do‘cause the mind continues to defy all rationale,And I wonder, if it's really the end?When the loop of the dawn and the dusk never runs stale? And I wonder again,If it's death if you go insane?And with the multitude of seconds that have gone by,If what is dead today will ever brew again?