The cup of life
There is many a slip between the cup and the lip.
I was too complicated to be pried open like that. I had my dignity. A thought which brings a semblance of order to this chaotic world of mine. I stare back at my mother even as she cuddled me with her caring gaze. She wouldn’t understand. It wasn’t her fault. No one could.
Every person is a hotbed of emotions bubbling with thoughts.
You remember those ‘slam’ books we used to fill as kids? I would never know what to fill in the best friends’ blob. It wasn’t being indecisive. I was merely wrestling with truth, something few attempt as they roll in the cradle called adolescence. There was adultery as truth rocked the home of name, place, animal and thing. The reality was that a blank blob was the truest representation of my feelings. How could I name my inner voice? That too assign the special title of best friend to a real life acquaintance. Maybe that’s what life is all about. Wrapping yourself in a cloak and surreptitiously revealing touched up glimpses in order to satisfy the curious trespasser.
The casual observer merely gets the flavour of superficial issues.
How often have you felt like screaming your lungs out, yet your face whispers that you’re at peace? There are times when I have felt that I’m marooned on an island even as the world sees me drowning in a sea of conversations. School is over. College is invisible. My parents have lost confidence in me. The only support I have is pages and pages of text that do not interest me in the least bit. I have disconnected the phone lines. The mound of information hangs like a millstone around my neck and release of it would mean an instant plunge to death. I have shut the windows. I stare at the steep, rocky, rigid hill from which there are no comebacks as it stands diametrically opposite to the cool, green, grassy trails which I’m destined to amble through in my dreams only even as I grit my teeth, pluck thorns from my body and place my feet gingerly in yet another thin crevice of this unforgiving monster. The bell rings. My eyes open. I see two friends. I am at peace.
The characteristic randomness which exists at the core provides the ingredient of individuality in the cup of life.
I was too complicated to be pried open like that. I had my dignity. A thought which brings a semblance of order to this chaotic world of mine. I stare back at my mother even as she cuddled me with her caring gaze. She wouldn’t understand. It wasn’t her fault. No one could.
Every person is a hotbed of emotions bubbling with thoughts.
You remember those ‘slam’ books we used to fill as kids? I would never know what to fill in the best friends’ blob. It wasn’t being indecisive. I was merely wrestling with truth, something few attempt as they roll in the cradle called adolescence. There was adultery as truth rocked the home of name, place, animal and thing. The reality was that a blank blob was the truest representation of my feelings. How could I name my inner voice? That too assign the special title of best friend to a real life acquaintance. Maybe that’s what life is all about. Wrapping yourself in a cloak and surreptitiously revealing touched up glimpses in order to satisfy the curious trespasser.
The casual observer merely gets the flavour of superficial issues.
How often have you felt like screaming your lungs out, yet your face whispers that you’re at peace? There are times when I have felt that I’m marooned on an island even as the world sees me drowning in a sea of conversations. School is over. College is invisible. My parents have lost confidence in me. The only support I have is pages and pages of text that do not interest me in the least bit. I have disconnected the phone lines. The mound of information hangs like a millstone around my neck and release of it would mean an instant plunge to death. I have shut the windows. I stare at the steep, rocky, rigid hill from which there are no comebacks as it stands diametrically opposite to the cool, green, grassy trails which I’m destined to amble through in my dreams only even as I grit my teeth, pluck thorns from my body and place my feet gingerly in yet another thin crevice of this unforgiving monster. The bell rings. My eyes open. I see two friends. I am at peace.
The characteristic randomness which exists at the core provides the ingredient of individuality in the cup of life.
posted by The Viennese at 1:03 PM
6 Comments:
"There are times when I have felt that I’m marooned on an island even as the world sees me drowning in a sea of conversations."
Poopy? Whoa.
nope, sorry.
whoever it is, hats off.
guru, i bow to you once again.
it's wonderful, just too wonderful.
who is the guru?
whoever it is, no doubt that he's a guru.
lovely writing.
Post a Comment
<< Home