Messtake

Hm nothing to brag about, little to be proud of, not necessarily much. Lurking In a haze, I can see the large black clouds of sadness ready to engulf... Floating above, following my footsteps, ready to plummet and strikes it's best.

Sulking, soaking, marinating in uneasiness. I never wanted this kind of consistency.

‘There are so much more to live for, many things to look forward to. In a world where anything is possible, all you need are passion and desire.’ oh how long I stopped thinking that way; sooner or later they’re all futile, doomed to failure. As each day goes by you feel like a leaf drying up, life sucked out. In a stagnant diminishing mode, we then stop hoping for more and start hoping for nothing even worse to happen.

Ironically living a pretty hectic so called cheerful lifestyle, where people rejoice, where friends meet up and spend good times, while one keeps busy and get involved in many activities, cheering and taking pleasure in, yet as luck would have it deep inside there’s a deep, dried up well, filled with mysteries, all you get are the echoes from your voice. No matter what I do, I can’t seem to fill it up with light. Murky and dark with a pungent unwelcoming scent, I dare not thrust into this dried up well. Not being ungrateful, just trying to fill in the annoying gap.

People all over self centered, oblivion, selfish and absurd. Doing things as they wish, as they perceive right when their knowledge of right and wrong, questionable. Distrustful, prone to betray, to let down and deceive with a penchant to not reveal the true self right from the start... Do unravel and reveal, to disclose not withhold, fill us in with knowledge and truth, so then we’d be informed on the true self that you are but mere human innately, one who comes in a package of mischief and trickeries.

I notice this man walking and hopping at the same time, no there’s nothing wrong with him just something peculiar about the way he walks. Walking and hopping at the same time, seems funny, but I can tell he’s having fun, walking and hopping emitting joyousness. I lick on my ice cream, unable to appreciate its taste, cooling effect or the pleasure it brings along. All there is is the physical act of finishing an ice cream.

He needs a bath, a shower, a quick nap, and some kind of dessert to calm the self. No matter what he does, these short escapisms, comes into abrupt realization. Now this is funny, an act of curiosity adjoined with desperation he finds himself looking for some soothing music.

In the end there is me standing above my dark well feeling unwell, not yet ready to dwell, I picture myself falling in and then I picture myself not taking the plunge. But already in front I witness a bigger tunnel, vaster, darker, damp and echoing…I now can hear the sound of a distant train chooing, I look down at my feet observing that they stood there standing on the middle of a track.