The best thing in the world
The best thing in the world ever
Was in my hands tonight.
Time slowed down..
And it all slipped away.
A Latin translation.
“Did you hear that? It sounded like a telephone call!”
“Hey! Did you hear that? It sounded like a telephone call!!!”
“Hey you! Did you hear me? I said, Did you hear that? It sounded like a telephone call!”
You there… sitting there looking at this. What do you think? Did you hear that? It sounded like a telephone call! They are being pulled inside? Look around here Palio. Vibrionic dissociation. Did you hear that? It sounded like a telephone call! Almond praline.
I wanted to grab him by the ears and SHAKE him! How many times did I have to fake not being able to hear him, for him to get that I do not care to respond? How daft is he?
How zen would zen be? I thought there were 3 of them, like the marble trick. Did you hear that? It sounded like a telephone call! Yellowstone fired Carr.
Bleed unto you what you have drained. How he was glorified? Till the diamonds lay plates. Night to eternity, swing by the bee.
If only everyone could be up here with us and see what we have seen.
I have a feeling of vividity through a shallow shore.
They ran amok with your sorrow.
“Fight for the hidden hero”, he said,
As I drew regions for tomorrow.
“We don’t live with us”, it read,
The stalk. The seed. The scroll.
Union ends
Where consciousness begins.
The heart. The head. The arrow.
We bleed into ourselves.
Where day meets night
And life meets death
As our hearts have naught to borrow.
This leaves the head,
our unconscious shoulder
To fill the hollow with sorrow.
I migrate-
through the hat.
Ironic.
Supple.
Wave.
Cohesive.
Observed.
Imagined.
She came in
-to my shell.
I dreamt that I killed a man.
Nothing surprising about the act, I’ve killed people before..it was my job. But I don’t think I’ve ever dreamt of killing an absolute stranger before. What’s weirder is my mind decided to skip the details of the actual killing.
One second I’m waiting in line to make a call and I see him behind me. Next second he is lying in pieces on the table and I’m contemplating whether to stuff him into the bag before she walks into the room with the rest of the group.
Ofcourse, I don’t have enough time to stuff him in the bag and get rid of the mess, so i just leave him there and pretend to be surprised like everyone. Curiously though, no one seems to give a shit about the decapitated body in the middle of the room. And the room is filled with a bunch of kids.
She is the only one that did something along the lines of my expectation. She came over to me and asked to speak to me about ‘R*******’. Fear coursed my body…it was a strange feeling to feel a real fear, a tangible one, coursing through my dream self.
I knew that she knew and she knew that I knew about her knowledge of the situation. The next thought in my mind was not a pleasant one. It had to be done. I had no choice.
And obviously, that is where the dream ends and I have to wait till Monday to see what happened to her. Sometimes I seriously wish I can go back to doing my old job and killing people in reality than in a dream state and getting both worlds mixed up.
Off late I’ve been thinking about the times we spent at the cabin. Every chance we got, with every excuse we could make, we escaped off to our cabin by the lake. It was our spot. Our second home.
Tank. Josh. Kevin. Cay. Sam. Dan. Jamil. Trigger. Brian. Emma. You and I.
We had no worries, no hassles about the present or the future. Dives off the cliff, hikes that lasted days, caves that came out of nowhere, tents, camp fires and dreamy skies with stars that shined like it was their last day alive.
We were alone. We were together.
Laughing, running around, talking for hours about the most mundane of topics, letting our imaginations run wild and having the time of our lives. We were young and had huge responsibilities thrown at us but the ramifications of those events were far out of our range of interest.
I wonder if any of us had an idea of how our lives would turn out. An idea of how messed up things would become and how some would not be among us anymore. I could never have imagined that we would grow apart to such an extent let alone imagine that some of us would end up hating each other..hating each other so much that a few of us haven’t spoken or seen each other in years.
How did we get here? I will never be able to figure that one out.
When I think about childhood memories, the image of us, happy, by the cabin among the trees next to the lake, pops into my head. I would give anything to go back to that time. To a time when things were simpler. A time when I was me and had nothing to hide; a time when I had the people I loved by me. I would give anything to go back to that time…and stay there.
It is more of a personal and dream diary. I occasionally write random writings and poems and I post those here too.
Thank you, by the way.
[ Ask me something? ]Every time I think about you, I involuntarily clench my fists and grind my teeth, ready to show how much I hate you.
When I realize what I’m doing, I kick myself for staying in character…
I’m thinking about you, within the safety of my mind.
I melt a little inside.
I wish I could tell you. I wish I could say anything to you, really.
On the outside, I must hate you, with all my being.
You will never know what lies beneath this loathing. You can never know what lies underneath this mask.
Hold out your hand.
Now twirl it around like you are a magician.
I want to see the shimmering trail it leaves behind.
So surreal; enveloped in a vivid aura,
Each line with it’s own story.
But they are meaningless words strung together!
Without context. Without cohesion.
They are flowing, sweeping over me
Making a significant impact with every contact.
Yet I’m numb to their feel.
Red. A bright red glow in the dark of the night.
So bright and blinding, I stare right into it, intrigued.
Instantly, it bursts into flames leaving behind a trail of falling dark red paper. But wait, it was my hand! The flame was at the end of my hand…
I woke up, shaking. I’m not alone.
I turned slowly to look away from the wall. And as expected, I saw a tall dark silhouette against the window. I wasn’t sure if I should move or just stay there and stare.
I knew who it was, ofcourse. It all fell into place so clearly.
It was him I’d seen in the jacket in the middle of the street. I was right. He was back and he knew where I was.
Normally, I would’ve upped and tried to run. But I knew that would be futile with him standing so close.
I continued to stare, expecting him to say or do something.
I saw him move.
Not towards me but around.
I was confused.
Then it hit me.
He had been looking out the window, away from me. He had no idea I was awake…
Too late. He knew now.
He walked towards me…
I was in a dark concrete walled room with no windows. All it had hordes of crumpled papers. I had to go through them all under a tiny candle light. What was I looking for? Would I ever find it? I can’t even read what it says.
I woke up again. He was gone.
It was all blurry.
There was only one thing left in the air, hardly discernible in all the darkness within me.
The smell of loneliness which lingered ever so slightly…