October came and went; and I didn't hear a word from you. I waited still, at my window everyday, just in that ever so persistent and persevering hope, that you'd reach out for me and call my name... I preened my ears, groped in the daylight and the dark; like an expectant father checked my watch, and adjusted my calendar, and kept my fingers crossed. Soon Winter will be upon us, and we will seek our comfort else where...
It's a strange world that I live in, you know - the one where I have to choose the optimum balance between holding on and letting go. I need both to live; I have placed you somewhere in that no-man's land that divides reminiscence and oblivion; where my visits, however short, are frequent. Other people have other opinions; it seems that whereas I stood my ground, pivoted at the familiarity of this 'no man's land', the world around me had moved on. I still know my bearings; it's just that the place I expected myself to be at, is not what I thought it is.
I am not easily overwhelmed these days- there is a certain sense of fallibility that has crept slowly but surely at the back of my mind. The vicissitudes of life have somehow taken the sheen of invincibility that used to reflect in my words and deeds; who better than you to understand that; for you have seen me operate from close quarters, and if my memory serves me right, found your own reflection in my visage. I desired you not just from the heart, but from the head; for you consummated us by completing the answers I sought for. Now I don't bother myself with the questions at all...
There are days when my expressions are inhibited by the words that I know; probably because unlike dwelling in linear states of mind, I sometimes have an excursion in the sylvan paths of uncertainty, in this sweet ruin that I find myself. Strange are the days, and stranger are the nights- when I fail to define what exactly I feel, I am gripped by an apprehension that I am turning into this numb, callous and indifferent monster that would go through with most things in life with a casual shrug of the shoulder... where earlier, there used to be a sense of anger and regret, now there is just a mere acknowledgement of an undefined, undirected annoyance. "Oh well, what the hell..." just like McWatt does in CATCH-22 and crashes his plane to death... yes, exactly like that.
I am tired of fighting the battles that make no sense to me; the wins and the losses here are irrelevant... at the end of it all it's just another accomplishment that lasts a few seconds or a disappointment that rankles a little longer than any of the accomplishments. Everything here is temporary. I know not how to react... I know only to reciprocate... in equal or greater measures. So don't come here looking for something that you yourself are not ready to accept and give. I'll always be the mirror showing you who you exactly are...
There is nothing that will stay here for posterity... except for these words... and I hope they keep your coffee warm whenever it snows wherever you are...
It's a strange world that I live in, you know - the one where I have to choose the optimum balance between holding on and letting go. I need both to live; I have placed you somewhere in that no-man's land that divides reminiscence and oblivion; where my visits, however short, are frequent. Other people have other opinions; it seems that whereas I stood my ground, pivoted at the familiarity of this 'no man's land', the world around me had moved on. I still know my bearings; it's just that the place I expected myself to be at, is not what I thought it is.
I am not easily overwhelmed these days- there is a certain sense of fallibility that has crept slowly but surely at the back of my mind. The vicissitudes of life have somehow taken the sheen of invincibility that used to reflect in my words and deeds; who better than you to understand that; for you have seen me operate from close quarters, and if my memory serves me right, found your own reflection in my visage. I desired you not just from the heart, but from the head; for you consummated us by completing the answers I sought for. Now I don't bother myself with the questions at all...
There are days when my expressions are inhibited by the words that I know; probably because unlike dwelling in linear states of mind, I sometimes have an excursion in the sylvan paths of uncertainty, in this sweet ruin that I find myself. Strange are the days, and stranger are the nights- when I fail to define what exactly I feel, I am gripped by an apprehension that I am turning into this numb, callous and indifferent monster that would go through with most things in life with a casual shrug of the shoulder... where earlier, there used to be a sense of anger and regret, now there is just a mere acknowledgement of an undefined, undirected annoyance. "Oh well, what the hell..." just like McWatt does in CATCH-22 and crashes his plane to death... yes, exactly like that.
I am tired of fighting the battles that make no sense to me; the wins and the losses here are irrelevant... at the end of it all it's just another accomplishment that lasts a few seconds or a disappointment that rankles a little longer than any of the accomplishments. Everything here is temporary. I know not how to react... I know only to reciprocate... in equal or greater measures. So don't come here looking for something that you yourself are not ready to accept and give. I'll always be the mirror showing you who you exactly are...
There is nothing that will stay here for posterity... except for these words... and I hope they keep your coffee warm whenever it snows wherever you are...
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