Pen and Ink Sketches. Poetry. Fiction. Life Musings.
A world without border, every time I say these words, it always brings a snarky smile to my face. Four words that’ll never be true. What I wish is a world, a world undivided by borders, personally speaking I would very much like if there was never a continent separation, one big land, Pangaea. We seem to divide us by geography, by race, hopefully if there was nothing for us to be divided by, we could have seen the point, that there is no fucking point, just hostile egos.
Dickens once said, “What I won’t give to have flames of meaning burn this darkness of doubt inside me,” oh wait, I said that, made you look didn’t I? We all are strange followers, all of us, ships in a herd waiting for the command of someone we have accepted to guide our fate. We need someone to blame, someone to praise because we are too pathetic and too weak to accept our fate on our own terms.
Why is it that pain leads us towards introspection but joy makes us nothing more than ignorant? One of the hardest thing we ever do is learn to be ourselves. The thing we all are afraid of, a little introspection. Who knows what sort of demons we will find. My pain forced me to take the first step towards my long withdrawn dream. This story is the result of introspection of all my sufferings, I never would have decided to write this one if everything had gone perfectly normal for me. I would have simply lived my life like most of normal people, waking, working and sleeping.
This story is no longer available on the blog. If you want to read the finished draft, drop me an email through the contact form and I’ll mail the word document to you.
All I can recall, a room of emptiness,
In my thoughts, lost and all alone,
My days all gone,
For all that I was and for all that I ever will be,
I’ll be scarred, naked and striped of my heart,
In my heart, I’ll wait,
In my words, I’ll breathe your name,
All alone.
I’m blessed with pain,
My ripped heart, all torn, discarded.
In an endless sea,
In this dark black room,
Drifting, floating, lost without direction,
All alone.
Wasted shadow,
Sailed away from me too, in a storm of confusion.
My burden, I cannot tell any of it apart,
Just give me back my world,
My shattered sun, my torn nights,
My suffocating air,
Which left me,
Never to return.
Nothingness, relent and scream,
My candle of life exhausted.
Eternally damned, I confess,
I gathered darkness for so long,
Forgetting myself in the storm.
**
Inspired via Daily Prompt: Willy-nily
I want to stop pretending so badly.
“Nobody dies a virgin… In the end, life fucks us all – Kurt Cobain.”
Creativity can be blissful and so it can bring people to complete madness. Arts are obsessional and obsessions can be dangerous. To my shame, most of these days I just stare at a blank white page on the computer screen. I know in my heart I love writing. The only problem, when I start I cannot finish one line. Seems like a paradox, I just wrote six lines. Alright, five lines. There are days like today when it just simply becomes unbearable. An undeniable self-doubt that makes me wonder, at what point did I ran out of stories to tell?
George Orwell once wrote, “It is not by making yourself heard but by staying sane that you carry on the human heritage.”
I need to write because if I don’t, I just might go insane with the storm of thoughts that brews in my head. To make peace with all the chaos, that is the reason why I write. Writing doesn’t limits my imaginations, or my freedom for that matter.
In this age of bootlegging, peer to peer sharing, piracy, I still prefer social engineering more than hacking. Dipping my pen into the Royal Indian blue ink, I could’ve written few words on a piece of paper but I chose blogging. We end up doing the same things for different reasons.
Sketches By Nitesh 