Suspended Incognition

Blasted furnaces.
The thinking and sinking of cellular winking just could not take a break.
For the sake of passing time the grim themes of the movie set were the right sorta thing to get. After all how many times can a man walk down and pretend that he just cannot be?
So here we go.
From somewhere near we start to call out in sheer numbers- shouting away to a glorious day. Bellowing out towards the crowd. Waiting silently in our skulls. Wondering where the voice is coming from.
Waiting.
Waiting to be seen.

So every time the wind chimes in the notes of a distant bell we stop in remorse or respect. Because we can take it we take. Because we can give, we give. Beyond the established madness of sane asylums and normalcy lie the borderlines of individuality.
Beyond the fences lie the blasted furnaces.

The invisible enemy approached the bunkers and the soldiers just fell dead.
Greedy with life the others marched by.
Bullets of thoughts piercing through their brains, they marched on to the shifting sand.
It was a life well spent - bled to the grave.

The sun rises again. Yet again. For the umpteenth time, it rises again.
The light penetrates the dust and guts -
the spilled out spleens and testicles in stark shame.
Decay is such a slow aftermath. Such a languid consequence.

In a few hours an atom was about to be split.
The separation of two lovers was about to be pushed to a new extent.
The birth of destruction was looming in a fractal string of numbers that were awaiting mans decision to paint a gloomy cloud.

The sun rises again.

Victimised vindications over stale eggs and juice

There are secret ways to give away the most obvious truths.
No one can tell and no can know. Its all under the sheets, behind the curtains, and locked in a box that says, "don't open before doomsday!"
All kinds of stories are left behind by the silent makers of history.
In the glory of the accomplished, the naive dreamers stare at the pedestals with disillusioned eyes and confused thoughts.
One wonders if someday in the future of humanity money will stop spinning the world around! It is clearly not the end of the world if such a thing happens.
The fate of our universes are beyond the position of the corners that we inhabit in infinity.
However, it is interesting to note what "would" be of importance if money got extinct.
What would it be replaced with?
Material replacement of a currency that was devised to overcome the clumsiness of the barter system is an immature speculation.
Would it then be up to humanity itself to validate its value? What would individuals do in this case?

Is it possible to understand the impossible?
If yes, then it is not the impossible that we have understood.
If no, then we have acknowledged the impossibility.
Either ways, one thing is for certain - everything is uncertain.

Occurrences are phenomenal.
They exist as probabilistic outcomes.
Moreover, all that can be imagined is real. So why not speak up?

Morality is a constantly evolving quality of the evolving mind.
Laws are in place to act as feedback checkpoints.
Judgments are not based on laws. Judgments are based on the subjective assessment of the laws. Unfortunately, this means that a 'victim' can be described subjectively too.
So what is real really?

Windows Vista

Outside there are noises of all kind.

And there is a light that is pure white. A plethora of sensations flooding through the eyes.
The body remains a living organic machine - sensing all the time.
Women, men, and children - they are all insane.
The homeless across the street, die slowly on the boundaries of our genuinely remote assembly - expelled by time and rejected by space. Homeless indeed.
Minds appear walking rapidly towards some destiny.
If you really ask them - its absolute ambiguity indeed. Certain insanity. Precise instructions - definitely awry.
Programmed obedience - clearly simplified.

Amongst all this, a question about identity lingers painfully in the puzzles of the mind.
The dancing chemicals comply by orchestrating a new theme. The neurons fire to a new tune. A new drama begins to unfold. Its time for the next scene.

Wake up. Brush your teeth. Eat breakfast. Go to work. Come back home. Eat dinner. Watch TV. Read. Sleep. Dream.

It seems the whole routine is laid out. All you have to do is just believe.
Believe and deceive.
Perhaps that's why the enlightened have always called it an illusion. "Its just make believe."
Its obvious. How could it not be?

But wait. There is more. There is more you have to hear. And there is more I have to tell. Don't run away. Its just the beginning. You will never miss the end.

How do I know?
I can tell...

No really. Wait for ever.
Its an eternal state - this life.
Death is but a punctuation mark. There are sequels to follow. Alternate story lines to write.
The readers are plenty - their gaping jaws hungry for more. More knowing.
The writers keep on writing. Keep on feeding into the machine. The machine keeps on going. Rushing rapidly towards some destiny.
Its absolute ambiguity indeed

Knowledge is power - the kind that can get to your head. It penetrates your mind while it enlightens the blind.
Obscure visions are as commonplace as the lucid imaginations of a soulful schizophrenic.
The split is not between you and the world. Its really between I and Me.

You - on the other hand - are no one.
Just a figment of my imagination. Just a construct of my mind.
We are playing with toys. Don't you see?

The rest will keep on flowing, like the traffic lines through the window. Its quite a sight.
Nature, nurturing our lives.

The Wall

A piece of me
over there
a piece of me
over here
Shallow hearts bring out the fire
Turmoil crave
for a mind in fear.

I laugh
at my drying tears
crying never
seems to clear
these things
that I have accumulated
over years of pain and slander

If only I could hold my smiles
and ask them why they are smiling?
If only I could hold my pain
and ask if it will see me again?

I have loved it and I have tried it
I have tried to but haven't had it
The closer I got, the farther it flowed
I could never find my way back to that shore

I am broken into pieces
and I see myself in each
I have worn out all my worries
and I have overgrown my peace

It seems the thing to do next
is settle down in silence
let go of every thing again
there's no point
in this pretense

Dreams, goals, ambitions and souls
are all awash my drifting worlds.
Locked inside my fractal self
I am building myself a wall again

Behind the fence across the road
I watch the sun shine through the rain
I've never seen the birds there
Twice now,
they have driven me insane.....

A piece of me
over here
A piece of me
over there
I have had my tales to tell
I have had my secrets shared

Anniversary

Its a blessed, blended, day.

These flights of fancy seem to be going everywhere, dragging me along to the edge of that lofty chaos.
Seems like years have passed by in an eternity.
Seems like moments have faded into seconds - exploding back into fountains of memories, neatly lodged within the astronomical galaxies of my organic mind.
A sound here, a whisper there.
The birds make noises from patterns of my cares.

I looked into the flower and saw the whole world.
It was perched on a pollen, hidden inside a twirl.
Instantly the colors jumped into my eyes.
And I saw it all over again.

My memories seem to rejoice in the pearls that had collected in various corners of my mind.
I trust them to rescind those occasional few things that occur unavoidably outside my self.


I took leaps of imagination wondering where I would land - finding myself waver on the palm of some divine hand.
I played my strings till the evening brought a foggy beach in front of my eyes and I waved till I found what a lovely dream this was.
Somehow I knew I was not alone anymore.
In love I had found the eternal forever.

What a lovely, blessed, blended day!!!