[Instrumental Break]

Blackout by Muse

[Verse 1]

Don't kid yourself

And don't fool yourself

This love's too good to last

And I'm too old to dream, yeah-yeah, ooh

[Verse 2]

Don't grow up too fast

And don't, mmm, embrace the past

This life's too good to last

And I'm too young to care, yeah-yeah, ooh

[Instrumental Break]

That instrumental break is as soul aching as the fading droplets of a sudden mid monsoon shower that leaves behind muddy puddles on a broken road and a longing in my broken heart. 

Isn't it laughable as to how similar those fading droplets are to the last time I had a genuinely fun thought - a thought to randomly stroll outside and touch grass. Infinite anxiousness consumed my days as I slipped awry from the child who loved to read books about photons and fly kites under the evening sun. It's time to digest something now; that it's no more monsoon season and that autumn's calling to prepare for the winter has become inevitable. That, I'm no more the child who fixed UPS units for leisure and take a stand as a young adult. It's time to let go of the mid monsoon feeling.

But that feeling never does goes away, does it? It's a yearning that blinds me to make believe that this mid monsoon would come to save me prepetually in my life whenever my conscious' calling grows loud enough.

echoes

15/05/2021

I don't think I ever knew you on any level. Personally, emotionally, physically. Maybe our intellects clashed sometimes, but my penetration into your mind had always been negligible. All of this said and kept under consideration, I did feel you. This cannot be said in simpler terms and yet I'm here talking to myself, pretending to text you through a notepad, wondering if you'd still be listening, if you still care. Like you used to.

I did feel you. More than I've ever felt a person before. All of the pressures, the anecdotes, the states of minds, the laughs, occasional tears, the withering away of sudden angers, the unwilting passion in your eyes, a passion of achieving and of reaching the top. I still have a piece of you in my mind. A seclusion still lurks behinds the curtains.

venomous

Imitating a perpetually distressed sine wave, I once again succumb to the deferral nature of my subconscious. This very attitude, many years ago, birthed the raging self-hatred I carry even today. It drives me to kill myself over and over again in front of the very mirror that reflects this asylum-like behavior into my life.

I'm the worst enemy of my mind that I've encountered as of yet. And the combat medicine that my body doctor wrongly prescribes on a frequent basis eventually becomes the venom that poisons me. Simply put, it's a medicine reading the description - "overkill for an overly emotionally pampered and self entitled child trapped inside a young adult's body".

Often, I wander so far away that I lose sight of why I began writing this piece in the first place. But oh well; fuck it.