Pulse

I have been so lost lately, I just don't know where to turn but this blog. It's a given that loneliness follows when your interests conflict with that of the crowd, but its' kind of hard to avoid that you're human and that you'd rebound to delve into humanly needs. For instance, having the right people for the right kind of conversations. I also have lately changed my reading habits, I am juggling to three books at a time ( prior to my one book at one time oath), completely blank out when I hold my pen to write, having rice sprinkled with lemon juice on it (don't even bother asking), and all I dream for breakfast, lunch and dinner is chocolate. Is this what they call mid-life crisis? No! It's just a normal next door girls' normal rant. I just called my self normal... I do need a check-up. See what I mean by not doing so well? I am constantly looking for inspiration, I often dream about my late grandfather and his stories and wish profoundly he'...

The monsters fed on the silence, for the voices of logic were too catastrophic. The fear that kept quite for the sins to go louder, leading me my surrender, ready to burn through my eyes, a display of evil, I birthed with my first few lies. I think my fears are coming alive, taunting me, itching my skin from the inside, taunting me - for they lived inside all along, and I was ignorant, not wise. And we know how the ignorant end: eaten up... alive.

As illogical as it may sound, education where it should be a force to eradicate class difference does more to solidify it.  You attend school, as young naive kids, and that point you're least judgemental. Thus clearing the notion of attitudes being groomed and bred, and not natural in its raw form. Then onwards, we are at the edge of clearing school and entering college, at which point you're still evaluating people on the basis of general attributes, scaling in on the judicial scales lightly, the good,bad and the grey. Its when you enter a more materialistic life; when your outfits matters, when social judgement stands more important than ethical judgement. It's then we build in these deceitful and downright erroneous theories of class having an impact on our perceived 'esteemed way of life'. It is here I end up questioning a lot of standards we swiftly abide to, without so much so giving it a second thought.

My eyelids felt heavy, opening only to be closed again by the scorching white light. They didn't burn, for even after subsiding in pauses, journeying but softly from my irises to the brain, the light felt different, almost welcoming. It was taking me over whilst my eye lids battled and batted rapidly until it felt at one with me. From then, the brain to my toe nails, it had consumed me. Once conscious, I saw what was ahead me - pitch whiteness. I could not feel myself, just that I was there, a presence. I was neither flying nor was I detached from my body, it was somewhere between the two. Perhaps afloat? Slowly at first but at one with my thoughts the light began to fade, as I fused words, then sentences to make sense. I wonder if I was really making any. Although the light had soothed down outside, it was still caressing me gently on the inside, as if in no hurry to leave.  Royalty dawned me. My hair flowing, long and warming, partly covered with something, I say...

Well I'll be damned. You my barely empty blog and it's cold reflection of my life, I summon you, yes summon to tell you how you are my only slave, friend and tutor. I learned something so cold, its almost making me feel my soul, and suffocated. Something about expectations. The expectation of not love or mercy but rather intelligence or rationality. It's rare. Given you have people all around you and only a few be there to see you tear up, you expect rationality from them. Just that... not more. I have had a brutal experience of relying on people who are apparently very righteous,  but when the time comes they surrender to bias, racist, discriminatory even brutal verdicts. Hypocrites, cowards, poltroon, iniquitous... sinful people! Why would you so much so talk about something you are not ready to implement? The last thing you get, and what you aim to achieve as you deceive with your words, is respect. And since they're close to someone, they often forget they h...

   20 years old, I sit, and make big talks about life miracles and philosophies. Feeling so young in my skin at one end, like I can accomplish all my head can imagine. Where reality is dissimilar - my youth battles it, until one day, or so I presume, old age will tire me out of this battler for new warriors to fight the same way, the same war. Life is a loop. Like a combatant tediously fighting for people and against people (see loop?) I fight impossibilities and perhaps veracity.  ‘Simple’ no more a word to me - but that does not refute its existence. It is as it is. Sitting on a cosy sofa in the company of the cool breeze, all aid to the light shower in the evening and plenty so called ‘intellectual’ books on the side table I wonder why I don’t feel as passive as I should with all the ‘apparent’ thrill of young blood running in my veins and the ‘ideal’ noble framing of my scholarly surroundings. I miss simple. I miss simple emotions. I miss affection, love, care, ...

 'I remember as people roughly cued by to get on the train we looked at each other for a short instance and smiled before she shied her glance away looking down at her shoes or just the floor, I couldn't make out. I was too grasped by the sweetness of it all. Before I knew it - all the people including her had boarded the train; for then I lost her sight, but once inside I tried to casually look for her. Trying to satisfy myself into thinking that it's okay to look around for a stranger like this but failing, thus shuffling my pockets and fixing my coat in a queer manner and soon quitting it to stand still upon realizing how dumb it might come off as. As quickly as my consciousness moved about from finding that girl to fixing my outlook - she appeared. And the  thoughts reversed rapidly from simply fixing my appearance to doing it for   her. Something felt poetic about the situation as I saw her eyes  too  quietly   ...