It is liberating.. I can feel the water drawing me in, entering my lungs and clearing my breath. The voices in my head, the screaming and the dreaming.. It all comes to silence. This is liberating, letting go and not moving a muscle, not trying to resurface. Watching the sunlight scattering all over me like a million falling stars. I can hear some people mumbling around the lake, some shadows. But I’m smiling, I’m letting go. I feel comfortable, it feels like a mother’s womb. Warm, holding me close, washing away all my pain. I can’t breathe no more but look at those tiny bubbles, they’re my life.. I’ll give it all away and what not, to stop these voices inside my head. Look, a tear running down my cheek, it feels warm and peaceful. Should I resurface or let go? I feel like I’m drowning and it’s kinda beautiful…
I’ve walked for miles on a journey too long..
Searching for an oasis, through every right and wrong..
The skies cried a flood when I finally took a nap..
Now all I’m left with is a broken compass, a torn map..
Whichever road I take, it gets closer but I remain far..
I’m a lost traveller and she’s the North Star!
On a dark summer’s night,
a flower so beautiful,
decided to show the world
the most beautiful things
can grow in the darkest of places..
Cursed is the one,
Who feels and feels deeply..
In a world, made of nothing
He shows up in my bed on a night of utter despair…
Making me stay with him for days till I finally begin to repair…
Music is not the healer anymore, food I can hardly chew..
The skies begin to turn dark and everything else is blue..
He feeds on all my attention, making it hard to concentrate..
Concealing it under the mask of humor I tell people; “life’s great”..
They’ll judge me if they see him, consumed by the fear of shame..
A glass breaks thousands of miles away, he tells me “You’re the one to blame..”
He keeps me up at night, barking the loudest he can..
It’s harder to get out of bed and go to work, lookin’ like cavemen..
Pushing me far away from my friends, hitting me with the strongest wave..
My depression isn’t my pet anymore, now I’m his only slave..
If only I can seek help and someone to hold my hand,..
I’ll train my black dog again without needing a magic wand…
P.S. Depression shouldn’t be allowed to grow darker and bigger making easier for it to control us. There’s no shame in asking for help and sharing your true emotions with people close to you. But it’s a shame when we see someone around us suffering and fail to ask “Are you okay, bud?”
©Image courtesy: The scream, Edvard Munch
Shall I not devote my heart,
To the One who holds the mountains firm,
And a myriad of stars in perfect constellations..
For my heart is made of glass..
With a thousands cracks running through..
Been to the mountains of Everest,
and grasses evergreen..
My mother’s wrinkled hands,
the prettiest sight
I’ve ever seen..
The color of your soul, is precisely what my darkness seeks..
The compelling strokes of your brush, creating wild ocean peaks..
These cravings that evoke me, more than I’d like to confess..
The touch of your fingertips, for my body is your canvas..
Born with lips so beautiful, but couldn’t utter a word..
Sitting for hours at the window watching the one-legged bird..
Bullied at the school for being so eccentric..
Abused by father for always being a skeptic..
On a mid summer holiday, escaping from the sun..
In grandma’s little cottage, he found a red violin..
They pushed him to the corners for his words were inapprehensible..
The more his fingers and the strings became inseparable..
A boy once running in circles for hours..
Found peace in his violin and the blooming of flowers..
They couldn’t understand him so he was segregated…
Not leaving him alone, now that his music was appreciated..
Closing all the doors behind, shutting out the universe..
All he wanted was the love he felt in singing a verse…
P.S. To all those young beautiful minds suffering from childhood Psychological disorders and the Autism spectrum.. Let’s try to stretch a hand towards them, before they lose faith in humanity and isolate themselves from a world full of opportunities.. Every child deserves to be loved and appreciated the way he is.
Image courtesy: Wandalin Strzałecki – The Violinist
When I was a kid I saw a man in my street every day, they called him the “monkey master”.
He’ll tell his little monkey friend and he’ll dance and walk and laugh and clap. And all the kids will laugh with him..
As my childhood disappeared, so did the monkey master.. I kept wondering where did he go, what happened to him?
Years later I saw him, in an interview by a local reporter. Showing him gradually dying of poverty, as people don’t watch the monkey shows anymore. Some find it dangerous, some think it’s cruel, some say it’s unacceptable to have animals dancing around the streets. Crowds and gatherings need special permissions due to possibility of terrorist activities, etc.
They asked him, if he can do something else to make money..
He said, ” I learnt some woodwork and became a carpenter but couldn’t make as much of a living, because that’s not where my heart lies.
My monkey was my little baby, my best friend. We ate together, danced together, cried together. Every night I fell asleep thinking of all the new things we’ll learn to do together..
People don’t like to watch shows like that anymore, but that’s what I am good at. That’s all I know.. That’s what I did all my life. I don’t know how to be otherwise, be someone else.”
I realized I feel the same.. people don’t love these days, some find the term eternal love as unacceptable and preposterous. Some think it’s dangerous and even overrated, but that’s all I know. I can’t do otherwise whether someone wants it or not.. All I have is “love” to give and share.. I am like the monkey master, will I die suffering too? Just like him…