submerge
Posted by ronrage9 | Posted in | Posted on 10:29 PM
Am tramping
Whistling
Not sounds of sorrow
Not tunes of despair!
Am putting in the whole essence within the bounds of my skin, giving my everything, trying to elevate. Deviate. From the subtleties of humanely traditions and rituals of allying with expressions of good or bad, relative to time and sand, relative to breaths and brains. Cold. Very cold. The polarity of hearts goes above and beyond anything and everything that is parallel to a human jet in this region. I should have migrated here a long time ago, may be even before the concept of time was shaping into existence for us. This is not moksha, not to be fooled my friend, for that is yet another mundane epilogue to some wise-crack’s hypothetically generated ‘true’ story. Why live by gold, when you can grow cold? Be impervious to the concepts of dark and light, of grey and black, of being able to fall trapped in the massive numbers and equations of calculations our forefathers devised for us. Their agendas were of different substance, for mud meant not mud but platter of life.
Am on a searching spree. I will trade, raid, outrage! To look for a new race. I am hardly bothered about the shapes and skin but the source of energy. For I have had enough of the sun, enough from this distance. Colder, definitely colder! That’s where am headed.
Posts
Comments (0)
Post a Comment