Dreamboat

Everybody’s going nuts over pizza and Zac Efron. What about bacon?

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My Stockpile of Agonies

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The earth and existence

fabricated for perpetually harsh lies.

Found only in this planet, fascinating things that leave you hanging with aw and amazement. The mysteries of a human being, art and beauty are to be found through every dark corner. Every known knowledge, powerful and divine, just goes by. Every known word, nourishing and sweet, just bursting with meaning. The limelight focuses on it; it is the creation of Science, the masterpiece of Religion, the thesis of Philosophy and the biggest catastrophe for every living soul.

Behind every wall, there is life. Life that everybody tries to colour, to put flavour in and to sprinkle with unicorns and fairies and magic and happy-ever-afters. Through everyday, the struggle for survival sinks in deep within our very skins. It burns yet it satisfies our longings.The worry of maintaining this “life” is the worry that kills. Our desire to make this earth proud breaks every bone in us. Ironic, I know. That our passion for keeping up with the fast revolution of this very planet is the one behind our ageing, the one which exhausts our minds and, in every way possible, the source and centre of every problem.

If the Earth would just kindly disappear for a moment, if it would be caring enough to take away our fears and predicaments, time would stop and so as all the beautiful, complicated minds of our anguish. The cosmos would be uninteresting, but it won’t matter because no one would be left to fret upon it being uninteresting. We don’t have to worry about anything anymore because there would be no us, no nothing, no dilemmas, no life. If it happens, I’d be ready and willingly go too.

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Bibliophilia

Heroes I recognize live in between shallow, brittle papers

dim lights and pale ink illuminated their subsistence

their lives aren’t dictated but rather defined

their identities became theirs’ to find.

They are not carried with elegance and grandeur

neither were fed with plushness on silver spoons

all went through dark, winding and deadly forests

before reaching their lands where the sun never sets.

One of them, my favourite of them all

imbued with a vile, unsound lightning scar

left unloved in a family of dissemblers

but found home in a school of wizards and sorcerers.

Often misunderstood and excluded

always blamed and found somewhat careless

tormented and scourged by the evil of them all

but courage and bravery saved him from the fall.

Another is a woman full of love and spirit

traded freedom for the soundness of her family

was indulged in a dress of scorching red and fire

but destined to play in a game of mercilessness and wicked desire.

Escaped the encounters, those she managed to rebel against

been able to triumph over the domains’ ruthless power

dreamt to live in a harmonious pledge of freedom and peace

the attacks of ungodly fears and agitation came to cease.

The next is yet another woman of boldness

one who had to make a decision of great risk

confused, struggling and was in a complete, twisted mess

but all she became was to be divergent; selfless and dauntless.

This one I guess became unfortunate and wretched

all she wanted was to find the way out of the labyrinth

her soul got entwined with her smoke and sorrowful dwellings

the smoke in which, she dies not in pain but in fulfilment of her dreams

The last,  a girl bequeathed with pain

pain of which demanded to be felt

drawn into a piece of literature which brought her miles and miles

with a boy she lost to the echoing chambers of life.

It’s them who I want to become, them who fought with every struggle

unwanted, unloved and thrown away into the depths of an unending abyss

collided with the things that are inhumane and improbable

but untied the knots of the rope which seemed to be impossible.