Arranged and Labelled
Time and again, back and forth as I pendulum in a crazy routine, I wonder what really keeps me alive. I don’t know if I should, you know, bring about questions like these for fear that a lack of reason may kill me (forgive the sad little pun but I am in no literary mood today). But it has to be asked once for myself to know that I am still not a machine that unquestioningly moves and appeases itself with whatever it gets.
I was staring at the pipe wallpaper on the idling screen when I realised that everything would go back to being what it was, that it wasn’t always round or fair-square it was just a lot of random pipes in different colours and textures that would eventually fill up the screen and then empty itself for some other pattern.
I feel full sometimes, would it be insanity then to go back to being…blank?
It is an alphabetic order though
A- For the complete Ass I make of myself every time I know I am being loved. I am genuinely one of those who doesn’t deserve love because trust and satiety don’t come. Easy. I know I should try but it doesn’t come easy.
I cried the last time he told me he liked and whatabout much because a reply was a commitment and I cant commit to people or jobs or anything.
B- for Bludgeoning order that holds me tight, that encompasses everything that I have been. I couldn’t keep myself in it any longer, the constrictions are for a banker not a half-wit, confused loafer who would one day like to live in the backwaters and open air with a packet of masala cigarettes and chai.
C- For true love that is a Curse. I cant live without, you. You there, you know who I talk to, right?
For all the secrets that dry up every morning in the pillows that have grown with me and stayed, I think forever.
And then yesterday when he went on about his ambitions and I watched her lingering interest being watched over by his possessive eyes, I realised it wasn’t love. It was boredom, I know there is an end to it somewhere and that is where the pipes will fold, the music will stop and everything will go back to basics.
Labels: That line between my brows