The grass was always greener on my side.

By Unknown -
I am writing about this surging madness that I can feel right now which compels me to force things my way. It makes me want to pull all my hair from my head. It makes me want to rip my tongue from my mouth. It makes want to yell at someone for no reason and watch shriek back at me. Unfortunately, it also makes me delve into the life of others and create a world of fantasy. This world has just one deity, that person I wanted to shout at initially. This same person who makes me think of stabbing her, behind the back if need be. I can control this flood of energy most of the times. I have developed a system of disaster management. I help save all of these people from what resides inside me. Though I can't help but drown . I witness from a distance my body suffer as it struggles and then chokes. I can't save it. I just focus on maintaining my distance. The usual. I become sad. Only being sad in my case is akin to being depressed. I remind myself of the days I spent staring at a wall from Monday to Friday and then from Friday to Sunday. But I keep falling into that ever deepening void they call depression. The thing is I am consciously aware of every single fact about how depression works on me. Had it been even my subconscious, had it been a different situation I would have had a control over it. But looking into a mirror that reflects my soul which yearns for the zeal worth its every grout, I realize I have failed. I have failed myself among this uniform herd of suffocating non-individuals around by trying to be one of them. I have failed this intensity that grows inside me like a dragon by caging it for too long so that it never learned to fly. And as today, all of a sudden, that I let it fly it is hardly manages to flap a wing. I expect it to soar high, higher that my dreams of the past and that of the future but that is all there is to it. Huge expectations. And maybe a permanent residence in the tides of time that doesn't match up with my present anymore. I cannot present myself with the satisfaction of containing this beautiful madness, and all but watch it light up a fire consuming me. I still can see my body shrivel up, turning into ashes in its finality. I ponder on the mortality of human life. And I hope that like a phoenix I might rise up from the ashes someday again. That I might turn my madness into a vessel of beauty. This one pot would contain all that is me, belongs to me. It would remind me to take what's mine. It would make me do the justice that I have denied myself. This one droplet of hope takes me back to the days of my childhood where the grass was green. I know because I have seen. Because the grass was always greener on my side.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Rebecca - Book Review

By Unknown -
A lady, a man, another lady's shadow; a scene, a house, a concealed history. These six components have educated the gothic drive from Udolpho and Jane Eyre to The Thirteenth Story. Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca is essential to the class, for in it du Maurier disentangled and composed these six components, refining the account, thinking the mythic, and improving the equivocalness of her story. What du Maurier comprehended is that the heart of the sentimental gothic is the battle between two ladies, one who is recently waking up and one not substance to remain a phantom. The man might be their clashing objective, the house and scene their field, yet it is the fight between these two ladies, forever and power and self-rule, that is the pith of the story. In Rebecca, the man is the spooky, ill humored Adage de Winter who has hitched a never-named young lady - an innocent paid friend - whom he has met amid a current remain in Monte Carlo. The two come back to Proverb's geneal...
Read more

Movie Review - Rebecca (1940)

By -
Ok, to see another extraordinary motion picture from those couple of years when Hollywood crested, when that mix of workmanship, freshness, and sheer community oriented ability consolidated again and again. I'm talking from Gone with the Wind to Casablanca, 1939 to 1942. Toss in any number of really amazing motion pictures in the extend - Citizen Kane first off - and we need to nearly anticipate that Alfred Hitchcock will fit ideal in. With Rebecca he does. It's another flawless film.  Daphne Du Maurier's book of a similar title is an awesome perused, something shy of an artistic great however an option that is superior to a negligible smash hit. I read it as of late, and was totally transported into a place that is known for unpretentious show. That sounds like a confusing expression, yet when you see this motion picture you'll see how individuals act with limitation, with looks, with calm activities, but accomplish a vainglorious, sensational impact that detaches you...
Read more

Random midnight realization(?). Dunno.

By Unknown -
Tbh. Today I didn't study. Or maybe, some study that was round about naught.  This for complete lack of trying. Honestly.  Now, on most occasions, these past few years, I would have felt guilty and would have rotted inside. To a point of depression.  But curiously, today I didn't. Why you ask? I had my wits about. Therefore.  Point is, us, humans can do anything I think. No goal is too big. Far but not unreachable. All you need is a map and perseverance. Let the two be your guide. You'll reach your destiny. With pleasure.  I am trying to command my mind these days.  For it is a beautiful servant but a terrible master.  And do you know something? For as long as I have my calm, I don't care if I really reach my destiny. I want to face every eventuality being what I believe I am.  <<Some brilliant random thought I forgot>> I don't care for what I don't yet have, but definitely for those attributes that define me and I have  n...
Read more