What do I say of this day
How can I close my eyes to this night
I don't know what do I do with this body and its name
You gave me, it's yours thus it's your name too.
Your questions are yours, your answers are yours, if I travel inwards, I only reach you, if I travel outwards, it still remains your play ground.

Stains.

Stains in consciousness live, are immortal, they survive centuries and travel through genes. Such are my stains too, that will survive my mortality. It does not matter where the die is cast or the colors are spilt, stains travel mysteriously to my consciousness.
Your consciousness merges into all as in some love story that waits to return to its own home that is mine. When it returns, it comes back  with stains of love, with that of hate, with anxious breaths, with people and their guns, their personal hopes and conflicts, their joys and their laughter.
The stream is endless and so are the hues. As a child I called these dreams, I still think consciousness flows too in dreams. I am sure you see it too, you see me too, but you see me as you.
This is how we connect through centuries, this is how we remain immortal, our stains thus never die.

It would be nice
To be born as a sea
Pick up a storm
And then forget
But the children still talk
About their boats
Sailing before the storm
The raven though wise
I saw it lost to the child
In me
Who asked
Where is my God

The Inverted Bell Jar.

The Priest raising the communion host during mass in a Maltese Church calls out Allah, as that is the word for God in their local language.

To mock is no FoE. The demand for immunity from society in Obsessive mocking in whatever forms of art is an irrational demand.

The struggle in pain often leads one to express this pain in an art form. Mocking a belief/section of society temporarily relieves the pain.

As any drug, mocking to relieve the pain also becomes obsessive, to the point that it makes the hurt permanent and the abuser a fascist.

Sylvia Plath in her poem Daddy says - ""Every woman loves a fascist... the boot in the face.""

When someone wants to kill itself, it first desires to kill someone else. That desire leads to self-slaughter.

History has innumerable instances where men committed suicide to prove a point to the society at large. This is Altruism at its worst.

These altruists who laid down their lives for some cause or pain always finished grand, saying "I died out of my own choice & place & time."

Thus the Bell Jar was actually inverted and that too to only keep the feelings/emotions trapped in it. The other way round, it couldn't be even named a Bell Jar.

Twitter Notes.

A few of my tweets ---




The Walk Came or Rather Stumbled Upon Silence As it Met Its Purpose.
#Quote




I have a Secret Fear (we all have), this secret fear haunts me, mocks me. It keeps the child in me alive. It feeds me to force me to think.




The skies don't guard the cultivated fields of Human Hands.
The Human Mind that Reasons does. #Quote #CharlieHebdo




We know about pain.We know about fear. We know when we choose not to Name any recess of our Mind, it's because of Fear & Pain.




EVERY NIGHT HAS A MOMENT WHEN THE STARS SHINE THEIR BRIGHTEST. EVERY DAY HAS A MOMENT WHEN THE SUN SHINES ITS HARDEST. #Metaphysics #Quote




Women from birth have their jobs assigned, rather from before their birth. They don't revolt against this. Why? #Question




May be not all is well with my neighbour. May be not all is well wth my neighbour"s neighbour. May be they think same about me. #AWorldatWar




There will always be a beyond to what my/our eyes can see. Beyond the horizon of the valley that I saw must have been one more valley. #Poem




In total darkness, when the eyes had no use at all, whatever I touched to hold myself, I felt my heart beats in that touch. #Metaphysics

Here comes the evening once again,
Long would be the night,
There would be time of death, just as usual,
I would be cold,
There would be ghosts,
But just like yesterday,
They too would be killed
By chirping birds of dawn,
Candles burning,
Reminds me of me in my morning,
When I was thanking to be alive.

Here comes the evening once again,
Long would be the night.

Love Ends.

Love ends.
Does this sound like the grandfather's paradox?
It does to me because I think Love never ends and neither is hate it's opposite.
We hurt, we cheat, get cheated, lie, say truths, sacrifice or not sacrifice, build us temples and all this once we stumble upon love, once we do, we look or don't look for values, flowers and springs and rings.
Everything that we do, we do after discovering love, so can we go back in time when the love never came into being, but if we did that why would we go back as the love never existed till it came into being.
Love always brings us to a point where we say to ourself we need to do more and there are physical changes that makes us realize us our vulnerability.

So does Love END?

Guilt.

Discovering guilt is difficult or impossible for one's own self. Guilt hides between smiles, tears, arguments, altruism, loyalty, sympathy and self talk.
A change has to make a thing simple, if it does not simply it's not a change, just being different.
Guilt does not require a mental disorder, it leads to one. Being optimistic and being loyal to relentless movements in wonderland are signs of guilt hiding behind unloved parents.
The arrival and departure most of the time go unnoticed. And I now feel sorry for writing this.
  

Trust.

Yesterday I moved because of trust,
today I moved because of trust,
tomorrow I will keep moving because of trust,
I could never handle trust, so I thank trust for handling me...from ashes to ashes.

The Story Of A Nerve.

I had a nerve,
The nerve activated
the self preservation
mechanism,
The nerve was destructive too,
Suicidal and crazy,
'Why me?' thinking to
the nerve, which knew
nothing of feelings.
I stopped asking.
I had to keep trusting it
though,
it was fatal and
I was on a theory.
I hid myself, it made me, or not.
I tried numbing,
it made me, or not.
Either nerve made everything a nothing,
Or just a mess in my brain.
The nerve tried saving me, it did.