Tuesday, 11 November 2008


An evening perched precariously on the edge of sanity swaying intoxicatingly between the realms of soberness and freedom, a cube of ice melting its essence in the warm embrace of single malt scotch, a laptop cooing songs that drape a veil on vision, a tear dancing on the verge of lips crooked with sarcastic smile whispering their silent prayers to the heavens above and their darkest desires to the Satan below , some random images of a past life fluttering all around as beautiful butterflies enlightened with the joys felt and a half sober mind helplessly and hopelessly striving to catch them and put them together to make a coherent picture, few broken fingers trying to capture this mixed torrent of thoughts, experiences, memories and emotions while they dance their broken dance on this keypad and caught between these interdependent elements of my existence my dwindling self........

A perfect evening

6 Comments:

  1. Thespian said...
    The picture of serenity :)
    John F said...
    Or someone going absolutely cukoooo :D
    ~Hope~ said...
    Amazing description. Can I join you?
    Heath said...
    A perfect evening is sipping wine with friends in an old place cherished for my childhood memories.

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    Anonymous said...
    More than three years is a long time to be gone don't you think?
    John F said...
    He killed me. Just because I live inside his head he somehow assumed he had the right to slice open my figurative throat so that he could adopt a semblance of accepted "normal life" as dictated by social protocols. My idiosyncrasies messed up his head. He seemed to believe what I dreamt of could someday become real for him.

    Idiot.

    I once dreamt that I was actually a figment of someone's imagination. That my whole life was actually a nightmare I was having while I slept. I didn't know whether to wake up and find myself dead or stay sleeping and keep myself alive in that nightmare.

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