Our existence is like these little drops of rain.

The following event is extracted from my personal journal entry from July 04, 2019, Godawari. And some parts are modified for this blog to make it resemble my current state of mind (I am really trying to refrain from writing my thoughts these days. So yeah! That’s that.)

As the final splashes of light downpour hits this tin-shaped rooftop, my mind gets struck by the sudden thumping of that drumroll. The setting is painted with One Last Breath from Creed, and as the lyrics summon the “hold me now” part my gazes wander around. I’m six feet from the edge. Just hold me now. Break this phasing out thing I often get involved into.

As those 3 girls walking down the street in front of the green demons, standing tall and fixated into the ground, the silence breaks from the roar by the Creed’s Scott. When you are with me, I am free. I am careless... The lyrics is something that reminds me of my alter ego caged deep into my mind-cave. He completes me incompletely and I try to reciprocate if not the least. And sometimes he takes control and sometimes I take hold of the handle of this beast, beast which is life.

A bike, an old Honda, I think, passes by and a van follows shortly after. Sitting in this cafe, on the rooftop floor, I can view the landscape hidden in plain sight. As the curtain swings with gentle inexorable breeze, my mind harmonizes with the baseline from RHCP. Hey oh! Listen what I say oh!. 2 sticks of weed isn’t enough for me to wander without control. But it feels good to have it after a very long time. 1.5 years and I have changed drastically like an aftermath of injecting a super-serum. I am no super soldier. I am just a guy without definite dreams. I guess I am a wanderer, walking aimlessly on this world, getting lost in my own mind-cave. That’s “okay” I guess. I don’t have to prove and justify for who or what I am, which I can’t really define currently. Let it be…

I guess I have to discontinue from this flow of words. I believe sometimes the feelings are best represented by carving them inside the walls of my mind-cave. Sometimes silence speaks more than the gibberish-ness of actions. I have to remain silent now. Till then, give yourself a space to contemplate things. Just think. Or best, don’t think at all. See you then. The numbers on the battery of this not-so-smart phone warns of the inevitable conclusion of this prose, of my life and of our lives.

Other Silent Things