IS MAKING ME VERY PHYSICALLY ILL

THE AVARICE THE MEDIOCRITY THE HACKNEYED ASPIRATIONS AND CLICHED EXISTENCE ALL POINTING TO A HELLHOLE PLATITUDE PRETENDING TO BE A COUNTRY IS MAKING ME VERY PHYSICALLY ILL.

what kinds of forevers are we looking for

would we not love knowing it would end, or would we love nevertheless? do we, love nevertheless? the love could end, but is it pronounced "death"? the dead lives on; we keep them alive. that's what make doomed lovers immortal. lancelot and guinvere, tristan and isolde, romeo and juliet; fallen souls with burning hearts. but why do we keep them alive; what was that incandescent moment that tarried between the two hopeless flames like - fallen souls of burning hearts - before they immolated, fire into fire, swirling ash flakes into shimmery dust motes, into fairytale tragedies snowing eternally in our minds. was it not that furnace of a moment of theirs, that we searched a lifetime on frozen lakes to bear? and yet we love not, knowing it would end. so what kinds of forevers are we looking for; the brief yet true and eternal, or the living long dead?

speak, memory

Through the window of that index
Climbs a rose
And sometimes a gentle wind ex
Ponto blows.

-- vladimir nabokov

fraudulent walls

when the cool evening air felt so fresh and light as it never had been for a long while, i wondered if those longstanding, gradually-built-up barricades and walls had been erected for nothing. but they had to have served a purpose - that they existed in the first place could not be for nothing. or was it only in this particular presence it was but defenceless? walls protect - not only those who set them up but also those kept out. but after getting so acclimatised within these reassuring confines, a reality of its own kind surfaced, fortifying itself while slowly nudging out the original reality - the real-er one. this was one such occasion this vaporous, formless breath of fresh air - yours - seeping through these dividers of realities with such ease and candour shattered that dichotomy and struck a tremor into the heart of these confines, tearing down not just barricades and fences and walls but also realities and false securities and that nerve-becalming confidence; enacting instead an invisible mirror compelling me to confront fears and false-confidences in their nonchalant faces. this was one such occasion i fervidly wished you would be walled away from this me.