Sunday, September 25, 2005

[your heroes failed]

it was cold. not the way a chill wind is cold, but the way steel is cold. up your spine, fear crystallizing your nerves to the point where you can feel the world breathe.

but that was years ago. today the sun shines, the colours make poets out of pagans, and saints out of us all. underneath pure light, we can all be good. if only for a few moments, even you can be a child, again. warmth, somehow, suffuses everything. spread, like so much butter, over us all, your warmth will free you.
or atleast that's what they tell you in the movies.

fear, somehow, had never been a problem. you lose it, eventually, when it's been around for so long. like pure white noise, it blends into the background until it doesn't even elevate your heartbeat anymore. it lives behind your scenes, it breathes out through your pores.
it was cold, that night, but i wasn't afraid. or i was too afraid, because opposites inevitably blend together when you live on extremes of some arbitrarily determined scale, trying to make your life fit some rubric the writers, poets, musicians and artists of your time have written, composed, painted for you. when the music catches up with your life, when the words cease echoing with truth, what do you do then? who listens?

cold, warmth. warmth, cold. it breaks down. when you're warm, you're safe. that's what they told me. they taught me to fear the cold. and it was cold. what was i supposed to do, i'm just a product of forces outside of my control, right? i exist as a representation of everyone i've seen or known, everyone i've heard and talked to. your life ceases to be yours the moment you're taken from the womb. you had nine months. it's all over.

to stop is to break. the cycles are far too easy to fall into, and if our spontaneity is merely a part of their order (thank you, stoppard), then you may as well quit now. i can repeat words to you till the day we both end up on a road to nowhere, till the moment you turn to me and tell me you didn't want to fall. again. it's all a shambles.
one of these days i'll tell you a story.

3 comments:

  1. 'i can repeat words to you till the day we both end up on a road to nowhere, till the moment you turn to me and tell me you didn't want to fall. again. it's all a shambles.
    one of these days i'll tell you a story.'

    those sentences are as yummy as a cup of chai on a rainy day =)

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  3. so a lil birdie gives me your link to read your certain posts..u dont know me waisay..now to the comments...

    "if only for a few moments, even you can be a child, again."

    "i can repeat words to you till the day we both end up on a road to nowhere, till the moment you turn to me and tell me you didn't want to fall. again. it's all a shambles.
    one of these days i'll tell you a story."

    yes yes i know ill shut up with the copying and pasting.its sheer haunting stuff.loved it.i kept thinking about these words you used.and as the birdie suggested the certain "august 11th" post.i dont know i sound like any other blogger..but youre haunting..ive never read anyone who haunts..and yes its supposed to be nice.okay enuff with the long baatein.
    i like your writing it haunts me.

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