We move slowly in unison. As and when fear approaches thoughts take a backseat. Days go by as I scrum through the few rummages that are left in my head.
You stand there sermonising and I sit here ascertaining that I DON’T understand.
Sometimes the coherence kills me of not being in sync while during a different realm we see spirit gilded.
I have been a believer, a believer in disbelief.
I have been a follower, a follower of leader less state.
I have been a thinker, a thinker of statelessness.
Words really don't mean what they were made for.
Ok , I agree that they were made for a cause and are still agreed upon for the same,but then you cant argue with me over the fact that their usage has found meanings,which have been different.
A difference not epic in the usage but subtle in the meaning cause it has been ages when I first keyed these words.
|Courtsey: The Dark knight begins(Comic Book-Tenth edition DC comics)|
A seemingly fluid story has just been an egoistical fight to end.
This draws some parallels with the regular tendencies I exhibit.
It would be difficult to comprehend, I understand that.
But then this was never written for you,it was meant to satisfy me and me alone.
You finding pleasure or hatred from the same is truly unintentional.
Lets face the fact that I have grown and that too quite big. You cannot mislead me any more.
Days of your mocking me are over.
Cause next time when you come back with that determined face of yours to laugh at me again, then also come prepared to taste blood.
Yes warm blood and the first crinkle that would tingle your senses and would make you to question that is it really your blood that tastes so sweet. I understand it would be difficult for you to accept this cause sweetness and you have been eons back lost each other.
But then it never was for you to understand it was me and only me who wants this understanding.
You still try to overpower me.
You try to make me think that I am writing a story.You force me harder to believe that what i am writing is for public consumption.You dream to navigate my mind.
I know it,I can actually feel your grin deep inside me satiated that you are the one who is creating these words inside my mind.
All would have been superb only if it was really the story that was going in your head.
But know what this demand too, really is random, random shit.
And even I don't know what my next word would be, what my next move could be.
I stand free from your grip writing whatever I feel.These words living the way they want, waxing and waning through cycles not bounded by a writer's imagination.
You find it difficult to understand still,right.But then it never was for you.
Between I am ego.