Getting back

Something to help me cope

Shades of grey

He entered the house looking a little fatter and a little different so much so I couldn’t recognize him. His eyes looked tired and sad I thought that maybe marriage does take a toll. That youthful look, a particular shine was missing. It made sense he was 40 years old, about time. Nobody in life is a victim and no one’s a sinner. They say even a murderer’s act can be justified by his past. Monsters are made, not born. Not all marriages end in old age, some end in empty houses with everything missing. Only the dust on the floor telling what was there earlier. A goose chaise of finding your wife and running into her ex husband who is looking for his child. But how did this story begin, how did she come in, how did he let her in. Some would say let him be, it’s all in the past now, no use of getting the story straight now. Let him be.

One day

One day I will wake up and realize the folds on my skin.
A body unwilling to move on, a soul unwilling to give up.
Black pride turning white.
White pride falling off.
A time when my age will define who I am.
Plenty of dreams left but no desires.
A quite contentment with the way life was and the way life is.
Constant pain but no agony of youth.
A silent pact with god and a valiant fight with time.

The human condition

I don’t remember a single time in my life when I was satisfied. When I was a kid I wanted to be intelligent like some of the kids I admired. Then came the boy phase which never seems to leave, where I keep wanting someone to love me back.

There was never a time when I wanted to be still and be happy with what I had. I am not the most intelligent person but I am dependable. Nobody ever seems to love me back but I always had good friends. I am not beautiful but neither am I ugly.

It’s tough to be ordinary. To be ok at everything and good in nothing. It’s like navigating through life without a compass. On one hand you are always lost with grave danger of sinking but on the other hand you never know your final destination. At least you hope you never know.

It’s better to be lost at sea than to be grounded ashore.

That’s the paramount of the human conditions always hoping things will get better. I wonder why we are all built to hope, to believe in limitless possibilities till the very end. To keep dreaming of driving an enfield even though all your body parts are ready to fall off.

To be at point A and think of point C.
To will fiction into reality.
To leap when there is nothing to leap to
To dream in broad daylight
To build castles in cracks
To restart with daybreak
Honestly I am glad I hope otherwise it will be like swimming in sand- rough