In Memory of John Flanagan

Cracked open a cold one, condensed drops streaming down from the can;                    Much like the drops from their eyes.                                                                                                 The boys remembered a brother with eyes shining bright like the headlights of his favorite car. The thought that they’ll never shine the same way crushed their souls;           Much like the ice in the empty pitcher.                                                                                           The pitcher wanted to be held again with the same strong hands gripping the handle, downing it all. Fingers wrapped around it and the thumb pointing north;                             Much like the notifications of his mates around the world.                                                         Those who once despised the thumbs up instead of the tiny red hearts were now flooding like reacts to pay homage.

The lights were probably dim, he decided to blow them out. Now there’s a void that can never be filled, but can only be bedecked with memories.

R.I.P

 

 

20,000 km

20,000 km

Vibes-physical but not quite. Touch- literal contact but not quite

Disbelief? yes

Apprehension?-not quite

 

20,000 km rendered to nothing by a sea of feelings

And a tranquil beautiful beach encapsulated in her dreams

She senses a storm developing

In the sea;

Of his breath

Blowing away all doubts- injecting in motivation

A storm she isn’t afraid of

to be honest, she’s amused

The thunder breaking the sweet silence, the waves mercilessly rebellious

But all that matters to her is his bare body 

Free from all the bars we call “civilization”

He’s a crazy little kid, matured by experiences

 

20,000 km rendered to nothing by comfort and trust

Why did it feel like she had known him forever?

How perfect was the alignment of all the celestial bodies

Or how determined the universe was to make it happen?

Madness to most people 

But this was probably her truest truth.

His words are the ones she wants to hear

His voice is exactly how- and him

He’s the one she wants the words to flow from

Deep, philosophical if you want it to be

He’ll probably put it in the best humor possible.

 

20,000km rendered to nothing by two heart believing that they’re close.

 

Humanity

Humanity

/hjʊˈmanɪti/

noun

the quality of being humane; benevolence.

 

I’ve always wondered who made this word and why?
Humanity in my opinion should’ve been a synonym for malevolence. Humans, as a species have never really been benevolent to anything. Be it the earth, their country, their people or even themselves. Humanity should mean the utter desire to pull others down in order to rise and outshine. It should mean competition or manipulation. It should mean cheating, betraying and hurting. Humanity according to me is synonymus to loathing and hating oneself and others. The pioneers of the english language probably never observed humans that well. The person(s) who decided to let humanity mean benevolnece either couldn’t imagine the extent to which he was wrong or expected people to succumb to the power of words. Homo-sepians have never been kind to anyone ever.

The earliest humans used to practice sacrifices, and they sacrificed not just the animals, but fellow humans as well. From hunters and gatherers to the first civilization on earth – all mankind could learn was how to exploit nature for its benefit, rather greed.

Then from civilization to industrialization and urbanisation, emergance of new cities, communities, religions along with differences and borders one thing sustained itself – and that was the basic human tendency to be selfish. I fail to understand when have humans been altruistic enough?

Voilence and bloodshed is aestheticized.

Humans are sadists. Humans are schandenfreudes. Humans do not deserve to exist.

Despite of all this humans have the audacity, the nerve to say that “humanity” means kindness.

Bullshit.

 

 

Presence

 

He knows it. I know he does. I can sense his knowingness even from the distance between us.

We’re close. Virtually. But that doesn’t satisfy my craving for his presence. His beautiful being makes me so miserable yet all I ever think about is his skin.

If I could I would stare at the beauty of the arrangement of his features for eternity.The delicacy of his dainty little lashes, protecting those brown orbs with lids so hooded that it’s almost hypnotizing.

Though my palms always get sweaty and I can’t resist shuffling my feet when he appears, but all my eyes ever look for is his presence. I often feel my chest throbbing like I’m on the most exciting roller coaster ever, trying to sober down my tide-like feelings for him.

But I fail. I fail so miserably every time I try. It’s like my eyes only need HIS presence to make the rest of the things seem more sensible.

He knows it. I know he does. I can sense his knowingness even from the distance between us.

The sound of his voice has something extraordinary about it.Those perfect frequencies penetrate inside of me to send a shiver down my spine. He makes me so guilable, so prone to falling for him harder and what amazes me is that he probably never even realizes it.

The way he subtly pats my shoulder while he’s out of breath since I made him laugh out loud. Inbetwixt of our conversations he unconsiously drifts closer, close enough for me to smell his cologne, and in that moment I swear, I almost get choked because of the rush of emotions gathered in my throat.

I know I should hate him for making me so weak, but it’s funny how I feel just the opposite.

He made me fight with my own self, with my own thoughts. This made me realize how hard it is to counter your conscience. How hard it is to split internally. He made me strong.

He knows it. I know he does. I can sense his knowingness even from the distance between us.

 

Deep down – Mind of a schizophrenic.

“Do not spend your life searching for a place to call home. Make the bones in your skeleton the only structure you need” – Haley Hendrik

I know what I’m looking for in life. Trust me I know it all. I’m looking for stability and happiness. You aspire to be flawless. I can turn the tables whenever you want to get things in your favour but people think I’m clueless. They think I’ve lost touch with reality.

You could be studying, singing, dancing, working but suddenly a voice asks you – WHY? Do you have the answer? Or do you distract yourself from the voice, ignoring your conscience, your curiosity and just continue working?

On the outside your world has been restricted to survival. But you still ask the doctors why you see someone who no one else can see. But my love, Deep down you know they are your only friends. That single eyed creature is the only sister to your sorrow

On the outside you’ve been taught that violence is wrong. So you look for answers, to know what alternative can you use. But Deep down you already know the answer. You know how the voices won’t stop telling you to hurt and kill and finish.

On the outside we all know the consequences of each action we do. Sometimes, maybe not but we at least anticipate the future. But can you actually anticipate the purpose of you being alive? No.. Because Deep down you know you are just an organisation of meat and bone.

On the outside we all know how love brings peace. But how do you know the other person loves you too? You don’t because Deep down you know you are going to be the only one on the pyre. Yes people would be around, but the journey is yours, and yours alone.

On the outside you’re told that you’re ill. Doctors say you’re schizophrenic. But Deep Down you know you’re not suffering. You’re enjoying. People might state your thinking as illogical but you know that completely makes sense in your own world of hallucinations and delusions.

Don’t call me schizophrenic, call me “Beyond sane” .

.