Chaos

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There's a moth in my room, and it's beautiful. It has blue wings that have gold edges. I wish I had a camera. I wish it would fly out the window. I think I make too many wishes. It's only because the stars keep falling.

I have no idea where I will be in twenty four hours. I've come to the conclusion that I'm not a very big fan of change. I always thought I was, but quite clearly, I was horribly mistaken. I don't even have the energy to curse this glare anymore. The windows are always open, Peter.. (but that's only because I keep forgetting to close them.)

There's just so much to do. I don't know where I'm going to find the time. I wish they would have just let me stay. I hope things work out in the next six hours. I can't leave now... The rain is here...

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Now playing: Khadki Junction Blues
via FoxyTunes

Goodbye

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It feels like the end of the world. There is screaming and madness, gray skies and people fleeing in thrilled states of panic. Different cars crowd the usually empty roads, people talking in quiet voices, looking at every known stranger with mistrust in their eyes. It's all chaos and confusion. And the fear sets in: What we believed to be the chimes of freedom, may just be the prison bells. The King is dead, long live the king.

It bothers me. If the world is ending, there is a lot I have to do, but I fear there is no time...

If the world is ending, all I want to say is goodbye. To all my friends I haven't seen in too long, to all the people I have hurt, to all the good times and all the bad, to the memories we've created and the memories we've lost, to conversations both hilarious and melancholic, to dreams and futures and islands and songs, to things that should have been said and things that should never have been thought of... I regret little. And I cherish all.

Maybe, the world will still be here tomorrow. Maybe, I'm just seeing storm clouds raging though the sky is really blue. Rose tinted glasses are just one shade. And every shade is a shade of gray. But, if it is the end of the world, I want to have been able to say goodbye.

Adieu.



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Now playing: Godsmack - Moon Baby
via FoxyTunes

Free?

I'm beginning to think that I may not be able to finish my CPC paper by 4 pm today, though a part of me keeps chanting "But we always manage". Yeah, well, there's always a first time, darling. With 26 rupees on me, no money in my bank account and the sudden realization that I don't even have enough money to print out my project, there's little I can do but laugh.

The only rule to be kept in mind is to go down fighting. I guess this is a last minute thing. I hope it is. I'm waiting for the panic to kick in, but I can't begin to care.

"It's only after we've lost everything that we're free to do anything."

I have a lot left to lose, but I think I'm working on that.


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Now playing: Godsmack - Mistakes
via FoxyTunes

Aeternum vale

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I don't understand why I feel like I'm going far away. Every day, so many things disappear into too-soon approaching horizons, and it feels like it's me who is receding into the icy waters. Except the colder it gets, the hotter I feel. There must be some way back. But which way is back?

If everything disappears, will I disappear too? If everything that makes up my very existence burns to smoldering ashes, will I burn too? If all that means anything comes to mean nothing, would anything mean anything ever again ?

Rule one: Stay in the abstract. Rule 2: Always remember. Rule 2, proviso: Remembering includes remembering to forget.

Why must everything always contradict everything else? Why is the "odd one out" the odd one out, when one is always odd anyway? Why does it all come down to numbers? Why must everything mean everything else? Why must everything mean nothing?

Why can't I find any answers? I don't know where to look. And everywhere is a very large place. I think I'm running out of time. I wish I knew where it all went. It's been twenty years, and every day, all I know is a little more of nothing.

I've stopped thinking. These are thoughts that keep escaping because I don't want to keep them in my head anymore. I can't, because I have no room for them.

They keep telling me to think back. But back to what? And with everyday, there's so much more to choose from. And I wasn't always me. I am not always me. But we get by with a little help from our friends. And a friend of the devil is a friend of mine.

I scare myself.

True Story # 1

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Lying upside down in a tiny hotel room, in a black dress and pointed heels, smoking a cigarette, watching Alvin and the Chipmunks sing for Christmas on TV.
While a guy she'd met for the first time the evening before took a shower.
Her phone which lay beside her, almost out of charge, told a tale of a call list she could only cringe at. The only charger they had between them was in her bag, which was incidentally with the manager of the last bar they hit the night before. It also contained all her money, both her cards and enough stuff to put her in jail for 7 years.

Also, she was missing her 21st and 22nd hours of a certain class.

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(As related to this blogger, last winter)

Sailing Sinking Ships

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We live in constant fear, tired and paranoid eyes scanning the gray seas for any signs of their ships. They wish to hunt us down like the supposed criminals we are. Criminals? We are, but mere, dreamers. We do not believe in their petty Gods of selfish goals and pretty furniture. And for that, we are watched and hunted and live under the constant threat of exile.

Exile! But if there were only a place to run away to! Oh well, the world is round and we've been sailing for years. If we knew where this world ended, there would be no need to wander the seas for, what could only be, eternity.

There are many among us who believe that the right boat will come along to pick us up, even though it means doing little more than waiting forever. These men live in the inner cabins of the ship, which they've decorated to look like ordinary homes, barely aware of the journey itself. Many fall asleep holding on to memories that stopped being valuable a hundred thousand years ago.

There are a few who leave us, on small boats, convinced that there is no point in this journey. Often, they return once they realize that the night is a thousand times darker when you are alone. Sometimes, we never see them again.

There are those who believe that the shore will appear on the horizon if we just keep sailing. But we've been sailing for an eternity. The World is round. But I do not have the heart to remind them.

There are some who sit on the wooden deck under moonlit skies and talk in hushed voices. I join them, sometimes, if only to see the stars reflecting in their otherwise tired eyes; faces suddenly years younger than they appear to be under the glaring light of the sun. Their company makes this voyage bearable. Their thoughts make my soul want to cry out at the unfairness of our flight. Their dreams make me smile. Their hope spreads like flames from a candle kept too close to too many sheets of paper.

And then there are those who have thrown themselves into the raging seas, convinced in the madness of stormy nights and thunderous skies, that the only land there is to find lies many many miles under the water's surface. I have seen many rescued from such a plight. And I have seen many faces gasping for air before the waters claimed them forever. I have said many goodbyes.

I choke and drown on memories that have long left the insides of my mind. I think I made a mistake when I turned it inside-out. Now the whole world is in my head. And there's no place left for me in there, anymore.

I have no country to return to. And the land we set out sailing towards seems to be nowhere in sight. This ship and it's crew is the only world that exists tonight. But even the hushed voices of the people with stars in their eyes can't drown out the screams of the drowning. Perhaps the only land that exists is really a thousand miles under water.

They never told us that you couldn't sail the moonlight to the moon...

I think our ship is sinking.

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I thought I'd get some work done before I fell asleep, but I think I'm asleep now. Or soon going to be. Maybe I am asleep and just dreaming about writing this blog post. Yuck. What a horrible dream. It's such a waste of time... But I could sleep for a thousand years. If only no one would wake me up... I'm sure I could stay asleep forever.