Skip to main content

It is I but I am not it

It started with a cry that shattered a heart into million tiny pieces. Shards which reconcile quite easily despite the fact. Although the impact that drove the other malleable hearts into deep freeze woke up just before the big departure, it still left a sour influence in the tongue. The like of which that would most likely haunt forth and linger throughout their entire pilgrimage and banter. Times like these are a tough nut to crack. And I am in the middle of it and loving it.

Schadenfreude. Tell me I'm cuzao, if you insist. The pleasure derived from the experience taken from the earlier demise was the thing I was waiting for all along. The reassurance for something I seemed to have longed for and forgotten. The misfortunes of others aren't for me to create but to blame me for my apathy would be entirely absurd. I was but an audience. I was but a bystander. The weight of the burden is fun enough to watch when the bright figure from the highest platform begins its own self-detonation. Not by any means warranted but provoked, not by any means intended but is forced by necessity. It should have been easier to swallow after one has toppled over but funnily enough the numbers soon moved up in rankings, which was all sorts of ecstatic.

It is not without saying I have never combusted internally myself, but mine was of a different nature. My whim is of a different level all in all. The sly, defensive, conniving type. The greatest performer I have ever come across, which is something I envy the most in all levels. Me and my whim are of two different categories, the conflicting, bipolar and the calm, quiet poetic. These two entities barely like each other, much less comfortable being in the same rhythm in space and time. One has to remain at the baseline at all times or risk being a vegetable in all aspects of metaphorical caricature, which has always been the case for both energies. The manic and depressive, not necessarily good and bad, light and dark kind of relationship. One can be an advantage and disadvantage at the most inopportune moment. I have wrecked a million hearts, including my own, through wrongful judgements and brash deductions.

Rightfully so to disavow these deeds are not at all necessary and mandatory, but by will of the ego. It speaks and I listen. It whispers and I zombify. It performs an inception into myself and I stand alone in the corner, ever so prepared to say 'yes' to every single thing it allows me to. It is I but I am not it. It is it because... well, it's just simpler that way.

Popular posts from this blog

Strange Fruit

I had recently adorned a vow of silence for myself with Miriam for no apparent reason whatsoever other than to suit my whim, and, regardless of the pettiness associated with this misdemeanour, I pray this will only strengthen us both in spirit for the coming days. The coming days are definitely not meant for one such as me.
In the next few hours, not shortly before I am done with this piece, this vow will be disavowed. Miriam is sleeping soundly in my right, broken by the exhaustion that seemed to catch her unaware. This was not what she had prepared for when coming to London. This was not what I meant for her when I asked her to come. In order to alleviate the guilt of me making it more difficult for us both, I do what it is that I do best, and that is to love her hungrily and wildly. And some little bit of swag on the side to cure her state of frustration albeit temporarily.
My days are long and yet wields very little. For now I do and take whatever I can, whenever I can. A grand f…

Snippet: In her darkest days, Elaine (worldbuilding), unfinished

Voices of strange busybodies could be heard on the other side of the edifice. Elaine reckoned she recognised one of them. An old friend. Perhaps not necessarily a friend, or not technically a friend. A friend is a rare commodity for her these days. She could walk right past them and not blink an eye, but Elaine waited for a little bit more until the lot toned down. Having a group of opposites around her, poking her skin through their eyes, meticulously making sure she was an enabler who to them an abundant source of entertainment, was all the reason needed to convince herself to back away from the complexity of it all. Home is an awful lot more awful than this place though, Elaine thought, as she gripped her handbag tightly, hoping the ray of darkness from the moon would envelope her and shield her from the attention of the lonesome trail.
"This would not have happened had you only listened to me, Elaine," complained Darco. "Half the people out there would skin us both…

Decide my fate for me

As though the wind may pass with golden steps from shallow graves, the warmth of her hands could not defeat January weather in England, proving that tests of fate weigh heavier than the insidious intentions of a warring tribe. Perhaps it is high time I engage in other methods more worthy of personal consideration. She left me in the cold when my reality cloaked in malady was in full motion, sweating icicles in the interior, punching my guts in gutsy ups and gutsy downs. She was my meaning. She is my void.