I am afraid of loneliness and I have searched, to find my way out of it. And finally I compromised, to live with it. I seek no reason, neither the faith I lost. For seeking it, would be looking forward to it, a thing of the past, which time and again has betrayed every reason, for me to believe in.
Night after night, the mists of darkness have enveloped my every essence of life. They left behind a void. A void, that grows out of nothing but comprised of everything. There were hues in the darkness- a collage of images. Images, that took shape with thoughts. Thoughts, that I could never reason out. They tingled my imagination like the drizzling rain and condensed like flakes of snow in the inner recesses of my mind. A floating colloid of broken mirages. I have seen them dance to the sensuous beats of karma; I have seen them vanish in formless ether. I have seen in them my lost self. There was an order in disorderliness, a formality in informality and a vision in the unseen, with a voice that spoke no words and a mind that thought no thoughts. There was ‘I’, who so desperately wanted to be ‘me’.
The blood that flows beneath carries within itself ‘life’, and the future that life carries within itself is ‘death’. And it is for this death that we are alive. No one can justify selflessly, the reason to live, because they can never justify the reasons to die. For, it is not in life, but in death that moksha is attained. Death is like a formless being, which emerges from the orgasm of time and takes on a human shape. It is then that fertility copulates with sterility and a cellular web of life is spun. I have fallen into abysmal depths, only to find a deeper submergence. The lone raft in the sea has neither the water to fear nor the wind to hide from. Yet the sun and the salt eats upon the very wood that keeps it afloat. And for me, I fear no pain in this sea of emotions and I have nothing to hide from inevitable death, yet loneliness and hope eats upon my very soul that lies within. It is the soul which they claim as theirs and not mine. It is for them to behold and feast upon.
The panache for everything that plagues my mind is time and as I read and re-read the above written musings of an unconditional mindset, I believe with utmost concern that I have never written any better crap than this in my life, till date, and my sincere congratulations to you for being an absolute ass-hole and reading it to the end.
