fear

on any day, on any night, you are mine. you have always been mine. i embrace you like the fool that i made myself to be. you are so mine that you can not even imagine it!

last week it was one malignant brain tumour and i wondered what would be like if it had been mine. this week another calamity strikes next door, and once more i remain untouched. it goes from blunt to sharp, and which ever way you present yourself, i do embrace you. you make me feel close to the other side, you make me want to follow her in her own embrace.

the blind, sees
the deaf, listens
the fool, conquers

fight and surrender!

the truth... ah the truth!
she is a chimera, he is a whore

pray!

when you are mine, where do you hide?

the hate and the rest

i hate it that you ask me to make decisions that you think i can make better than you. i can not decide better than you.

why me? why now? on what kind of film do i find myself in now? who wrote this screenplay? whose story is this?

i remember when a wise old man asked me if i was getting anything out of the tales he had to tell. i looked at him in surprise for i was convinced that he had something sweet to teach me. i was deaf, not blind. you and him share a name, gender and not much else as you both have encountered me at very different stages of this comedy of my life. his teaching was indeed very sweet, overwhelmingly sweet it was. that very question of his encapsulated what i needed. then i could not quite fathom what was going on. how could i have possibly been so rich and fortunate? how could i be so lucky and have so much when others had so little?

that is how i stayed and discovered that i had written my story and then proceeded to live it. when the subconscious bubbles up dreams that have me wonder what reality is because these dreams subsequently happen during my waking hours while i can make no sense of them, then i want to curse it all. now i am just annoyed and hating the fact that it is as it is. i want to embrace this hate like i have embraced this love. i do wonder why i have not yet ran away from it all. you tell your stories and you muse of your fears out loud and hidden in plain sight, and i do wonder if i will abandon caution and pretence and just hold out my hand to you. if i hold my hand out to you i know that we will stay alone as alone as we have always been. but do i want to hold your hand now?

so it is that i know no love, no hate, no passion, no glory, no emotion. am i like the wind? water is the most humble of all elements. are you like water?

the love and the enemy

thoughtful. these days i am thoughtful. i am humbled too. i write fragments of sentences as i am tired of the incomplete syntax. i cut one incompleteness with another and hope that somehow you will understand even when what your fear is to understand. there are the long hours of silence which we share, and those are the best, then the most gets said, and we never misunderstand each other.

i have been distracted, i am distracted. today i was even irritated and furious. i wondered what held me from piercing through all the conventions and do something explosive and violent. i watched myself. how is it that i return to that place so quickly?