You, Me & Vacuum

# This blog is full of someones. Each post is obviously about someone or the other. But some have an alarming majority, like I am screaming their bloody names out. I am not aware of what they did to deserve this honor, but anyway they don't know a bit, so it's no honor anyway. But however still.

# Life is so not well rounded sometimes. It takes you all the wrong ways and then makes you choose. What you feel you are meant for. This too, is one rare case. So, you're lucky if it happens with you. This is exactly where that bitch called life, squares it off. Pros and cons.

# As such, there's a mess. Irreversibly fucked up imbroglio. There's choking traffic. Mails to be sent, asses to be kissed. There's internet that has issues of its own. Very frustrating. Handicaps of our own. Secret debilitating humiliating handicaps of our own, that we don't have the balls to deal with.

# Also, a past of broken hopes, meandering routes to happiness that never practically ended, there's dresses that don't fit, nails that are bitten, beauty that is unattainable. Fear, trepidation. Shame, some more fear.

# There is no time. No space. No continuum.

# Sometimes, Virginia Woolf may not have been that wrong after all. Walking into a river with pocket full of stones. What was she thinking. She knew whatever she was thinking.

# But for you. You are at the other end of this line. Did you realize that what I just wrote could have been one of my those endless monologues about how everything is doomed? You would say, 'Stop, Stop!'

# I see myself through this tortuous day, because it ends with you. A means to an end. Sometimes you make me feel. Like I am floating in a gravity less vacuum. And one happy vacuum that is. 

6 comments:

WritingsForLife said...

I have loved so many things about your writing over the years, but what I love the most is how honest it is, and how unafraid.

Raj said...

"I see myself through this tortuous day, because it ends with you. A means to an end. Sometimes you make me feel. Like I am floating in a gravity less vacuum. And one happy vacuum that is."

this vacuum, i am guessing by now you know where to find it. i have a hunch, that the closer you get to this vacuum, the closer you will get to yourself.`

Blasphemous Aesthete said...

I guess that is how one is supposed to write, by being deaf to the world and their correlations.
Sadly, it doesn't fill stomachs, nor pockets. Not when we'd want it too, that is.

:)
Blasphemous Aesthete

Hopelessly Flawed said...

if we have found happiness is vacuums and imbroglio...what more where we to achieve as a generation... i think we are doing more than okay.

your blog is one of my favorite living books...thank you for writing.

wildflower said...

A living book! Yeah, that's the idea. Made my day :)

wildflower said...

Just a random accident. Anything I fancy.