Wednesday, August 25, 2010

One needle at a time

When the curtains fall and the lights go off?

She sits alone on the floor, holding her knees close to her face, her arms wrapped around them. The silence around becomes noisier by the minute and she shuts her ears with her hands to avoid hearing it. But the silence only grew louder. Inside her somewhere, she felt heavy. It was the kind of weight, she'd been carrying for a while now but could never quite get used to. She wrapped her arms around herself again and pulled her knees closer to her face so she could rest her nose on them. This cocoon made her feel safe. She would to cocoon herself this way for this lifetime, at the very least.

Slowly, she used her right hand to reach out to the shiny metallic ray of hope that lay next to her. She picked up the needle and jabbed it into the wrist of her left arm, releasing spurts of red that were strangely comforting. She continued to poke herself, one needle at a time.

She watched closely the redness of the blood. Closely, but expressionless. Inside her somewhere, the weight didn't seem all that heavy now. The red comforted her, one needle at a time.

She could sit here in her cocoon for a lifetime, one needle at a time.

Until the lights come on again and the curtains rise and no one will ever know how she lost a part of herself every day, one needle at a time.


Wednesday, August 18, 2010

You know what I'd really like?

To walk in rain.
Rain that is pouring.Hard
So hard that the water can hurt.
I'd like to walk in rain like that, all alone.
No, please keep those trees and lonely woods crap to yourself
I'd like to take the main road, a straight road
With people and cars and the sound of angry horns and people shouting
It won't matter, any of it.
Because I wouldn't feel anything.

To be able to laugh
Really loud.
Like a child.
Like it's from the heart
Laughter that comes from happiness, not humour.
Why, thank you for your time and wonderful articulation
But, really, I don't appreciate humour that much.

To someday be able to explain that I do live in memories.
I preserve them.
Sometimes I choose not to, but it doesn't work.
They are so well preserved, I can keep going back to them.
I really begin to doubt the 'present'.
Because I can go back and forth and live a moment again and again and...
(this has been happening way before inception, the movie has nothing to do with it. But i could relate to the movie. in fact a detailed post on this is due.)

To destroy the battlefield that my mind has become.

I guess am back to being cryptic and sometimes using poetry/ fiction as a cover. 
This feels good though. And somehow safe
No prizes for guessing who's not a risk taker after all.

Go on, you'll find nothing here. I promise.