29.9.08

I have known him for years; at least that’s what I would like to think. I have stood by him in his worse times, but sadly could never support him or stand up for him. I’ve been by his side long enough to witness his self- destructive ways, his grim sick endeavors to liberate himself. There was this drastic, vague co-relation that always ran in my head between what he said and heroin. As he would drag it in…an evasive yet certain disillusionment would set in his eyes blurring his senses, disorienting him but bringing him close to the reality that you have been avoiding or escaping from confronting for long. He would tell that he had not slept for long and as he’d fall into the vertigo or dizziness, he’d feel helpless, victimized; he’d look helpless. It may not make sense, you may not understand it, you may not believe but you are ready to give into it (heroin). But that would not explain the state he was in; what caused this?? What was the onslaught? I myself was being evasive and delusional when I tried to explain his phase, but why? Was it because that’s what he deserved - delusion? Was delusion the only possible explanation to his lifestyle or rather the only excuse? I could never figure it out and I would just give myself away or just give in with or without any sane reason.

Everything he said cut me to the bone, nastily as if he was deliberately trying to do his very best at maiming me. It’s a pitiful sight that he was in and is left alone at the end of it, all by himself to take the brunt of the relentless onslaught of the order. Then he went and sought all the ways he could to escape the feeling and concomitant bane. He obviously felt that he was left alone in this because he himself did not support the massacre of his ideology. It appears more confusing to me that it must have been to him. Always disturbed and never left to his sensible discretion.

And I always thought that he was normal…

There’s nothing in this world that can make this pain cease or restrict to abeyance but that one evasive drag of my past that I have very discomfortingly stashed away, buried deep down and vowed never to look at it again. An approach, quintessential of an escapist, which has left me more helpless and drug dependent than I could have surmised before I inadvertently engaged this scheme. I will pound my head against a rock, head bang against my obdurate school of thoughts, relive any atrocity I must have dwelt in; I will not do it anymore.
I think an Aspirin will do the needful justice to the feeling in my ulterior lobes. I wish I could resort to psychotropic drugs and let it all wash away, like a desolated despot waiting for the calling, a deluge unleashed in its most pious form actuated to wash every thing, feeling away, unconfined and never sated. However digressing from this sagacious indulgence, I’d rather stick to an Aspirin right now.
I guess it the salience that keeps this soreness toxic independent; I guess it’s the anxiety that never ceases..

the beauty of 2 minutes

posted on saturday the 3rd, june 2006.
i don't know but this one seems non-emo material to me now,just like every other emo piece that i come across.

sit in the night with a thought in mind
a smoke in one hand and a bottle of water
she’s so pretty is all say, more or less i'm all gay
dipping my tongue in the water of thoughts
glistening against the color of past
pretty thing is all i can cry..

she’s so cute with a curl in her hair
dyed out brown against the old black fade
a little longer than her shadow in day
beautiful is may be the word i would say
probably smells of flowers i haven't smelt of
may be tastes like vine i wouldn't approve of..

it’s alright..
and the smoke has just burnt out
while the clouds don't seem to fade away
but the thoughts must be leaving now
they are all so pretty is all i say..what's new?
and the day has just begun..
the lights out, the thoughts have gone,
and the day has just begun.

firefly

posted june the 27th,'06

i was walking down home today, after a very rightfully frustrating day, when i noticed a firefly by the side of the road close to my house. i picked the firefly up and gently placed it in my palms, started walking again but never removing by eyes from the firefly. i let it wonder and wander in the intricacies of my palm, wondering about the mechanics or the logical, rational, scientific explanation to its light emission. Nevertheless, being utterly impressed a sudden sadness dawned over me and a concomitant sense of responsibility took over me for i had lifted it from its native dwelling. i had to discard all thoughts of adoption, feeding and watching it every night in awe. i couldn't just keep it now could i?; i gently blew it away for it stuck onto the beads wrapped around my right wrist...
after a huge day and body failure due to exertion, i lay half past dead on the floor staring at nothing but the diminishing ceiling at my friend's place. i knew i had come a long way but i also knew that i had miles to go before i slept. i couldn't muster enough courage to embark on another painful journey back home. i was sapped both mentally and physically. i couldn't move my appendages, and i let out a cry. Had i been at home my mother would have knelt over my half dead body and taken care of it, i could recall her face vaguely as if she was asking me how i was feeling and if i could fake a smile and pretend nothing was wrong. No mother, i couldn't, i just couldn't and i fell into this slumber...
i couldn't get up but i did manage to drag myself off the mat, dispelled a look around and joined my friends in the balcony, wondering if they were eating or planning to eat anything or and the concern of not reaching home on and in time. Sieving the details, smokes were arranged and tea was prepared, cookies were laid out; i couldn't get over the hangover of the dying embrace. tomorrow i embark on my life's most important journey; it is a very strong possibility that what happened today decides the fate of the circumstances. with the break of drawn, i set out on my travesty with no clue as to what lies ahead though i have this remarkable ability to prognosticate but i do not wish to do so in this case, i shall leave it to god this time. Under such circumstances i usually pick up and light a smoke, and blow off my worries but not this time.

'the still waters of the waters under a frond of stars...
the still waters of your mouth under a thicket of kisses...'

butterfly

written - Jul. 08, 2005, 08:23 AM

a little passion is what we have
a trifle imagination is what we lack
a little off track we do always get
a little deviance makes me fly

a little fate lies in our palms
a little illusion is what we have
a little delusion is what we chase
a wild butterfly i always lack

a little prose comes easy
a little articulation is what we have
a little bitter our nectar gets
a little love is what i lack
a little comes easy i desire a little more, maybe...

mocking bird & the serpent

Mocking bird
come along
Wait in search
of a rhyme.
Echoes, sirens
wild calls;
Seek what you can
For you will not hear a word I say
Solace is my rhyme
Deafness calms the lull hovering over my olfactory..

Hissing serpent
Slither into
My cave
Where I spend my days
Agony builds
Its walls,
Epithelial armor
Break it,
Envenom..
I will not wince
A bit for as long as I can see it cleaning…wounds
washing, rinsing..
where lay the mocking bird impaled..

posted by 30 seconds to decay.. at 12:18 PM june the 28th,'06

anathema of pain

my first ever dark piece,or my first ever piece that qualified as poetry. it was posted on my old blog on june the 28th,'06

For generations that go untold
Seven secrets only Dead Omens know
Must I lift and blaze my soul
So that I can live the glow

Seventh night I touch the sky
Reach within, up and outside
Broken spirit’s sole despair
Chains unseen don’t let me dare

Must I always feel the pain?
Must I always go through the game?
Is it pain that I seek to suffer?
Or morbid visions your blindness covers?

Seventh night I touch myself
Reach out while I feel inside
Palm of fear, I brace my heart
Withdraw myself close, need to hide

Writhe on ground, my one winged soul
White dove, spit out coal
Black and intense, throwing up
Blood in black; vomit out
Then stiff it stayed as a stone
Inward out, it lay droned
Life oozing out…..

For generations that go untold
Seven secrets only witches know
Must I recall, with them I share
The story of my one winged soul in despair.

Abscess memory oozing out…
Abscess memory forming up…
Faculties demented, life's retarded.
Faculties designate, faculties disengage…
Possessions, beliefs overthrown..
Lines crisscross, life overboard..
Bottom of my marine floor
Eject, rise and explode.

Swallow glycerin down my throat
Prussic infliction, concomitant throes
Poisoned Jessamine causing interruption
Mega cycles of brain conception
Watching every line turn pale
Deconstructing every vein.

Seventh night I touch my senses
Routine was the irony in the menses
Don’t look over my guarding fences
Living fallacies, playing with senses

Razor blade life
Rusted twin edged sides
Slit coarse, open wide.
Cutting deep, blue frozen pride

Feed me, I’d kill myself
Touch me, I’d rip my sides
Serpents such beauty unseen
Dancing stoned, senselessly around me
Fogy misty darkness, lit fire bright

Barbiturates to calm down,
Bury me deep in round
Dead, put me in my grave
Pour acid over, seep down to corrugate
End the misery of my one winged soul.

For generations that go untold
14 secrets only the esoteric know
This one I have shared with you
So now you shall suffer and blaze your soul..

posted by 30 seconds to decay.. at 12:10 PM

blotted

the first piece to hit this blog,quintessential of the darkness that shrouds the thoughts...

to sail free in this nude sky,
i change my life forever..
my skin tricks the red & it trickles down
the scars on my pride.

red sea and me on a high tide,
chasing stars forever..
hands empty,heart fueled with iron will
in the path of the sordid treasure..

how could i not mourn?
when i was beguiled by thou..
eternal-sunshine hope,
canine licks reciprocate my endeavors..

could you kill me cold,
i will sleep with demon's woman tonight..
how the stars stole the whore,
happy as she ever was,ready to consume my light..

with burning embers,cold blue bloodshot eyes,
i couldn't hide my face..
my broken pride and raped mace,
rendered for a full moon disgrace..

eclipsed head and a ruptured smile,
i deconstruct my will..
raped soul,the fall was nigh
to set free..in this nude sky..

how could i not mourn?
beguiled by thou..
eternal-sunshine hope,
canine licks reciprocate my endeavors..

could you kill me cold,
i will sleep with demon's woman tonight..
how the stars stole the whore,
happy as she ever was,ready to consume my light..

contrived love delates me of viles..
the druid gloats,an exigency to hide
the profligacy of the daughter..
with little will and no desire,
the desuetude ends their lives forever..

she will leave them behind..
she has raped them and left them behind..

devil cometh,whore's love is streaming..
broken skin,cracks the whip of fate on her back..
bosom turning black,yellow fangs
she threatens with a love forever..
uterus of lust gone dry,
threads in hair of the pubic sky..
collagenous cry,cartilage dies..

how could i now mourn?
besotted by immoral treasures..
eternal-moonlit hope,
the canine twists my pleasures..

could you kill me cold?
shaken yet not moved,
i leave the demon's woman tonight..
how the stars stole my whore,
happy as she ever was,ready to consume my life..

echoes silence patience & grace

the following entry has been moved from the other blog for it does not belong to emo genre,or as i feel.

this one is being made into a short movie by one of my friends. the person loved it or as the person put it,"no,i really liked it!" and the person repeated it at least 7 times in the 40 minutes conversation i had over the phone.

it is not the first time that it has happened to me and maybe not the last time as well. as i walk through the streets, kids mock and pass snide remarks at me. i fail to react but always put up my plastic smile. the smile that i have perfected over the years; the smile that has pulled me through innumerable uncomfortable situations and circumstances. i can hear laughters in the background; i was the center of that background a while ago,making everyone laugh and burst into peals of laughter even though they were in pain. people have always been in pain or at least the ones that i have met. i filter the people i meet and make them happy; eternally in pain and temporarily happy.
it is not the first time that i have made people smile, even if at my own cost, the smile has been priceless for me. i, among a myriad of self-righteous maggots, feel that i have the super ability to tie loose ends, and to loosen knots. people look at me and can barely make out if i am a victim of any societal issue if any whatsoever; i am the issue and yet they turn a blind eye. i still smile beautifully as i always thought that the most beautiful smile came when one was traumatized. i fail to address any emotion but the one within me and yet not react to things. the reactions are lost in the mist of the outside world and how i must be fine with things. i rarely cry for i have forgotten to cry; i often smile for i have learnt to. i just keep god in my head and mirth if nothing in my heart, hoping that things will turn out the way they are supposed to one day, the way god intended to, but what is god's will is something that i have pushed aside after years of discomfort, comprehending and dissociating from external factors. god's will is pure, the world is supposed to be pure.
it is not the first time that i look at my bare skin for any visible signs of purity,aggression or revolt but i see none. my body has exchanged passions with others, sometimes naturally while sometimes forcibly, in the hope of passion being restored when my body would react but my mind wouldn't; maybe it was my passive love. my body has adapted to my heart while my heart has adapted to my eyes. they take things as they come, slow, clean and unaffected. slow as the waterfall but no sound, clean like black and white snapshots of a corpse, no drama, no emotion, just plain and silent, and unaffected like the one who has been vomiting blood for several years and can not feel the fear anymore, the fear of love, life, hope or anything that makes a being run. i walk with a soul carrying a weighted body, too heavy to carry itself with the limbs moving effortlessly in a regressive progression, as if every step were to retrace its own path. i look in the mirror and see my sockets going deeper every passing day with a silhouette of black under it. i have always used my black to smudge the colors or the lack of it on people with or without feelings. feelings are ethereal, feelings are fleeting, feelings are misleading..i fail to see things clearly after all of this for i understand that it is probably the way i have been made, for emotions. i have devoted myself to this after years of going through it, though, unwittingly at first of course.
it is not the first time that it has happened to me and maybe not the last time as well..and it is not the first time that i have been raped...

dated:21/08/08