End Times

Do you know what it feels like? It’s like losing a piece of a completed jigsaw puzzle. When you have seen with complete satisfaction what the whole looks like but now a small piece missing has rendered everything pointless. It’s like that one small void has taken over everything, spread like an infection. It’s just one empty space, just one gap in the beautiful picture, but it feels like it’s protruding like a tumor. It’s like watching your hand burn slowly, while a pail of water lies just there. The emptiness inside burns more than any fire, beginning at the heart and radiating outwards. Till it consumes you. Makes you a part of it. You collapse into your own core like a star at the end of its life. The limbs that would spring into action after seeing them now carry no emotion. It’s like a nail that snapped off a wall and the painting it held crashed to the floor.  When a cyclone destroys everything and smashes every castle you built and dreamt of living in but the factor of time continues, on and on and on and on and on. Everything remains the same. But you just lost a piece. And now the picture is ruined. But the most you can do is see the ruins and try to make sense of it. You try to rationalize the tragedy and see if it makes any sense, as a consolation, as an afterthought to all your depression, as a funeral for your guilt, but there’s no coffin for your past.

      ——

And it’s scary to think of abandoning this. It means you have to leave your artwork. Your creation. Something you both worked on. Because that’s how love works, like a painting. You two work together to express your vision, some like it deep and symbolic, others prefer minimalism, some like it wild and abstract, but abandoning each other is like abandoning your artwork in between. The hardest thing about ending, is starting again. Finding someone with the same vision as yours, who looks at the canvas with the same passion as you, the same perversion and destructive tendencies as you, every stroke of paint is as measured and precise as yours, the same amount of emotion going into it, and as you stand by admiring your work, holding each other’s hands, the painting seems perfect. Time stops. Will you find someone like that, again?

——

A part of your soul has died. A world far away from the real one has just crumbled. You have been jerked away from this heaven and pulled back to the painful reality of mundane existence. It’s like a high wearing off after your first smoke, the warm fuzziness giving way to your cold and rational self. Every interaction with other humans is fake and shallow. You suddenly realize how weak and helpless you are, and how much of life can be drained out of you in a few hours. And you’re obsessed with time. Time, the supreme driver of all reality keeps moving, indifferent to the reactions in your brain and the hormones in your system. Hope and expectations are evil at times like these. Because time doesn’t wait, it discards the inefficient.

A Play Of Words And Faces

“So what kind of music are you into?”

“Metal and some Hard Rock.”

I heard a patronizing chuckle.

“So you are one of those types. Is that why you had long hair?”

It was just another one of those get-to-know-each-other conversations where the person puts in very little effort to hide the fact that they are classifying you. Putting you into categories where you seem fit, based on assumptions that leave you wondering if there exist rumors about you that you aren’t aware of, or is this person really THAT delusional?

I have been a helpless victim (Did you just say victim? That’s weakness. Are you sure you don’t suffer from a Victimhood Complex? Are you sure you aren’t in need of some psychiatric help?) of these conversations and many more, ones where I am made into things I wasn’t aware I was. Dealing with this identity crisis for me has been far too complex and almost always unsuccessful.

When people do get the categories correct (Oh, you’re an atheist!), it’s the negative connotations that come along which are irritating. Being an atheist doesn’t imply I’m nihilist or angry and frustrated. Although going through bad life experiences, death of a loved one for example, is the reason some people turn into a Godless state; most others are atheists for purely logical and rational reasons. Some others reject the existence of God in favor of an even more supreme absolute; humanity. I guess atheists get a bad rep for deliberately choosing to stay away from the perceived majoritarian beliefs and lifestyles.

“I am afraid of speaking to atheists.”

“Why?”

“I always feel they might make me one of them.”

The immediate consequences of these assumptions are never good for either of us. I can’t count the number of times I have been told I’m unpredictable which has always come as a surprise since I lead a pretty mundane and consistent routine and thought pattern. Maybe the unpredictability doesn’t lie in my actions but in the fallibility of your baseless assumptions about me. No relationship, or conversation for that matter, can happen without a certain amount of trust. Trust comes with consistency. False judgements create a distorted sense of this consistency.

People would generally react to this situation by ‘sucking up’ to people which can be a total suppression of the individuals true identity. An obliteration of individuality. It can lead them to behave in ways they never would just to seek the approval of a group. While this can be positive reform in some cases, it ultimately leads to a suffocating effect where the individual feels like they are no longer in control of who they are. ‘Lost’, ’empty’, ‘confused’, and ‘insecure’ become regular states of the mind.

My body is a cage
That keeps me from dancing with the one I love
But my mind holds the key

I’m standing on a stage
Of fear and self doubt
It’s a hollow play
But they’ll clap anyway

“My Body Is A Cage” by Peter Gabriel
(originally by Arcade Fire)

 

How do I deal with this? I generally try my level best to not be judgemental towards people and give them a fair chance to reveal themselves. When I do encounter people who I feel are judging me in disagreeable ways, my response is either in silence or when the situation is appropriate enough, I like to play along with the statement and make a really offensive and/or silly joke about that particular stereotype. Not only does it take away the awkwardness but also manages to give the person some food for thought. Let them be aware that there might be a lot more to you than what meets the eye, you just might be the most perfect person for them if they hadn’t been looking at you through a fractured piece of glass.

“So, are you in a relationship?” She asked after a long period of silence. I didn’t know how much information she had gathered about me in the course of this conversation. I didn’t actually want to know. I didn’t want to know what she thought of me. Somehow it just seemed too irrelevant even though we had been around each other for a considerable amount of time now.

“No”

“Do you think you’ll find someone?”

“I guess I’m weird enough to find a real special one.”

A Perfect Circle 

Every thought of mine 

Begins and ends with you

It is a perfect circle 

It is like the chaos of my mind

Has come to a perfect standstill

Standing in perfect harmony

Playing out like an intricate symphony 

I seem to gravitate towards you

Every moment, every breath

Heavens will rain blood

When the full extent of my feelings is revealed 

Write your name with this rain 

And everything else will fade away 

You complete the void in me 

It is like a flash of lightning

On an overcast afternoon 

Because my darkness ends where you begin…

A Conversation With Myself

Nothing but a dancer in the dark

Shaking my limbs haphazardly 

To a beat that I no longer recognise 

I have become a failed entertainer 

Failed to get attention, or applause

‘But who’s approval did I seek?’

I don’t seem to understand myself

What I want or who

I just want to get away from all the darkness

That pulls me down constantly 

Am I dancing alone? I do hear noise

But I can’t see anyone in the darkness

I try calling out but nobody cares

Panic strikes, it does so often 

Everything seems to fall apart constantly

Broken and bruised,

I feel like a star collapsing into its own core

Losing its shine and its wonder

‘Am I even worth anyone?’

Thoughts just seem like bricks that hit me hard

‘Am I too self absorbed? Or just too self conscious?’

There has to be an end to everything, I think with a smile

I thought I had conquered my emotions

But like everything else

It too is a large accumulation of small defeats…

Regrets

I was standing near my room

Early morning, looking for you

We had had a fight the previous night

I wanted to say sorry to you

It was still your fault

But now it just seemed too trivial

There were people in the hallway

Standing in groups and talking

In a mumbled buzz

It was 3 am

And my head was swirling

I just wanted to find you

Hold you and take you back with me

So I took off from the hotel

There were people in groups everywhere

I didn’t approach them

You were the only thing on my mind

Finally I reached the beach

More people here, more groups

And a louder buzz

My head began to ache

There was panic in my heart

I paced to the shore still pretty drowsy

That’s when I saw you

Lying on the beach

People all around you

They pulled the white cloth off your face

You had the same clothes you wore last night

Someone said

‘So sad, wonder why she did it’

‘Someone heard her quarreling last night’

I collapsed with a thousand thoughts swirling in my head

Wishing all this were a dream

A bad dream on a beautiful beach

Come Back To Me

I lay awake in bed

Wondering if you’re taken 

Or if you’re  mine

I wonder if I’m still the same 

As you knew me

I hate you

But I don’t want to disappoint you

People say I’ve become better

A happier, more respectable man

I want you to see how much I have changed

Since you left

I reminisce the times we spent together 

I try hard to forget you

But all it takes is a movie

Or a song

And you’re right back on my mind

My smiles are meaningless and hollow

My emotions shallow

Every inch of me craving for you

I spent a whole lot of time 

Trying to get rid of you

Life with you was hell

My love for you was dangerous

It was like swallowing cyanide

With a smile on my face

But I’m addicted to you

To your presence 

There’s nothing but loneliness now

Stranded on a lonely road on a cold rainy night

Come back to me

My dear Melancholia…

‘Nature is Satans Church’

The woman came to the therapist 

With severe depression 
She had anxieties that needed immediate cure
The man (therapist)-unemotional, wooden, cool, calming, rational
The woman-sentimental, fierce, insecure, chaotic, deep, insightful 
He was much amused by her 
She was disgusted by him
‘I interest you only because I’m your patient’
‘I mean nothing more to you’
This man tries to enter the forbidden forest, a jungle full of chaos and soaking in wilderness. He is devoid of experience or empathy and has only logic. However logic doesn’t work in the jungle where he sees a fox biting away its own flesh in an act of supreme self- destruction. They live off another, for birth there has to be death. The hairworm infects the grasshopper and makes it drown in water so that it can reproduce. that The fear of the unknown takes over.
He thinks he can help her
Tries to understand her insecurities 
Timid she looks
But the violence inside shocks him
The contradictions are overwhelming 
Even the most beautiful canopy in the forest is home to the most sinister animals. And parasites that can in turn suck them dry. The giant water bug that injects its venom in the lively frog, dissolving all its internal organs and leaving nothing but its skin lying in the pond is just a glimpse into nature. Nature has death and decay in perfect harmony with life, beauty and creation.
He realises he is not in control
Yet he makes futile attempts
Trying to make sense of nature
The laws of it shock him
He feels sorry for the deer 
That had hurt its foot
Now lunch for a predator twice its size
How do you develop an attachment
When what you love might be destroyed the very next moment
By an element of the same nature?
The dumb man likens it to suicide
He is faulty in himself and lives in a world far away from this one
Never once realising he is digging his own graveyard 
The therapist, having failed to make sense of her problem admits himself incapable. The woman, now devastated at having failed to find someone worth trusting collapses to her knees and weeps. Feeling sorry, he tries to calm her once again. She smashes his head with her handbag and calls him a cheat.