Breathe often.
Breath deep.
It’s going to be alright.
Just remember to breathe
It’s going to be alright.
Category: Poem
That which is unexpected / Truth cycle
The week started great.
Better than expected actually. Work progressed much better as things were being done well before deadlines and all those extra stuff.
Then came the first missed call.
And the obvious expected callback which resulted in listening to the robot tell me to leave a message and try again at a different time. A voicemail, I believe was the idea.
Then came the second missed call.
And this time, it came with a voicemail.
I perform the much needed callback almost instantly.
She answers.
And then the conversation occurs. 10 minutes later, I’m back at my desk, clutching the edges of my table, wondering exactly how this managed to happen. I tell myself to calm down. I can feel my heart beat steady. Slow. Heavily.
Mental faculty goes quiet. It can’t articulate properly anymore. Questions get dropped into the silent space, but the neurones avoid the virus. My mouth goes numb, my eyes get sharper. I remain in full alert. My face falls back into default. A fake smile creeps on my lips and I let it stay.
“I will ride the wave till the end.”
I hear the words echo in my skull, reverbrating in the ’empty’ shell.
“…till the end.”
—————————————–
Officially, I get an oral thumbs.
Unofficially, I get a written mark down.
Which is the truth? which is the lie?
I question the dissent. I question the difference.
I find confusion at the crossroad.
I see dilemma in the options.
Do I trust one? Do I trust the other?
Which is the issue?
What is the solution?
Mental strength burdened by the responsibility.
Apathy clears the nonsense.
Apathy creates a new plan.
“Say BS to that which is BS,
Close your heart to those who have wronged you.
Let them know they’ve lost you.
Let them know they’ve hurt you.
Let them know you don’t actually care anymore.”
Heart listens with an open ear.
Gladdened by that which might be right.
Till mind empties the room.
The silence presents a solace.
But then the cycle begins again.
Which is the truth? which is the lie?
I question the dissent. I question the difference.
I find confusion at the crossroad.
I see dilemma in the options.
Do I trust one? Do I trust the other?
Which is the issue?
What is the solution?
Irradiation
Ignoring the truth that lies speaks,
I’m clinging to the darkness that light brings,
Blending with the shadow like a lifeline,
Living as I want because it’s my time…
Because it’s my time…
Says the part of me that knows the path’s wide…
A 50/50 gamble ending in a hell-ride,
Failing the odds, losing to the wrong side,
Might as well go out with a bang, right?
Screw the world, live for me, right?
“Wrong” says the part that knows what’s the right side,
Kitting up, walking back, back to the light’s eye,
Hands down, eyes blinded by the light’s shine,
Darkness fades, none hidden within the light’s rays,
Life given, so freely under the light’s gaze…
Newly made,
Irradiated,
Life given by the light within,
Light giving by life in him.
Made my choice, I guess its time to lay on it…
Waking to face the pearly gates looks like the aim of it…
Will I make it, or fail at the end of it?
That’s his to decide,
While I figure out the rest of it.
Lost Pages: Alone
[I am neither back at square one,
nor have I reached the end of the road…
Stuck in this crevice of nothingness,
or as this story would have it told…]
I beseech you,
allow me to create the imagery,
built from the sentences & words utilised
I beg your forgiveness,
should it appear long-winded…
Alone,
On the mountain-top looking down,
In the darkest pit looking up,
Panic holds my mind,
Fear strangles my heart,
Paranoia sets in like the morning dew,
I succumb to the dampness
and illusions plague me…
Ever been in that state where you feel…
Like its you against the world?
Where fear would have it appear that…
You are all alone against the masses?
So you withdraw from everyone,
Folding in on yourself…
And pretend like you don’t exist.
Conversations are lessened,
Trust is rarely given,
Scepticism becomes the language.
Paranoia plays the piper,
Whispering words into your ears
As it hopes to make you doubt your friends…
“Friends?
Since when did you have friends?
You mean the same people that
Constantly stab your back?
Those are friends?”
[Scepticism becomes the language.
Paranoia plays the piper,
Whispering words into your ears]
Doubt working its way into your dreams
Discards them like playing cards,
Sets them on fire
And you’re left to stand,
watching them burn…
You can almost hear the scorn of fear…
Cackle as the pages of future hopes burn black…
Ever felt so alone,
Like the world has turned its back on you?
So you get the urge to turn your back on it too?
Ever been so alone, that fate would you have you question the Creator… What’s the point of this? Or that?
Ever felt alone, that in the moment of heightened panic, you almost discard the Creator, like a rebellious teenager, only for your mind & heart to remind you of His glory upon your life?
So you call out to him and pray for reprieve?
Yeah. That.
Lost Pages: Grey
Blots of black on white,
Or white on black,
Mixed by the twirl of the brush
Blurred by the smudges of my finger across paper…
Grey…
Conceptually painted by the murky in-between of reality & imaginary,
Unsure as to whether real’s unreal,
Or whether unreal’s real…
Not good, not bad,
Just moving towards ugly
Not even being funny,
But neutrality seems to be my calling,
—
Pacifistic mentality,
Willingly, Un-becoming,
Paid the lukewarm band-camp membership fee
Cos I was too hot to be cold,
Too cold to be hot,
So as to get spat out,
When one goes to drink…
—
Grey
Like
Light mixing with darkness,
In a dance of abstract colours,
So we twirl, twist & turn,
Like the yin-yang symbolism
Unwilling to let go,
Fear of choosing a side, perhaps?
Fooled to think both sides are ‘equally’ good, perhaps?
Unaware of the possible outcome,
Like closing one’s eyes to the implication of grey clouds up in the sky…
In the end,
There lies just rain, chills, thunder & lightning.
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