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When the Bow Breaks

This eerie feeling is so undeniable. I can now feel the bumper hitting my side. I’m getting this creepy chill as I am fully aware of the reality that I’m currently in motion, feeling my body flying momentarily in the air, seeing the lights drawing distance. I am so caught in the momentum as I am now anticipating my hurtful crash.

Then finally, the gravity pulls me down hard, hitting the ground with all my weight, throwing all my multiple gypsy neck accessories off my body, scattering all tiny beads and apparels off in every direction, and feeling some bones cracking from the inside and tissues ripping from the outside. I am so aware of how rough the road is as I rub and shovel myself off against the asphalt, and tear some skin off especially on my bony corner parts.

Then, at last, I have come to a halt.

There is silence. I cannot hear anything. I cannot move. I cannot speak. I can do nothing. I cannot even think. My thoughts just escaped ten seconds ago; and now, it’s null. It’s blank. It’s void. There is nothing at all.

I guess that’s it. That is all it. That is just how it goes.

I’m dead.

I just died.

I cannot believe that I’m all right here, standing still, watching my own cold body lying on the ground. This part of me is what I have not prepared for.

Duh, as if like it happens everyday!

Dead bodies are not what we get to see everyday, as to coffins are not one of those domestic decorations we see in regular houses on regular occasions.

It’s not like a lousy bump on the knee as we stupidly walk over a table; or, flipping a leg over as we pay less attention that the staircase has one more step, which we forget to step on.

The brains are the body as the emotions are the soul. It takes authenticity to see the soul through the eyes. Silence is therapeutic as it tames the unquiet mind yet, also deadly as it kills the tormented heart.

Big drops of rain keep pelting on my cold, lifeless, icy face as the darkened sky mercilessly drown me. I drown myself in, stirring it all in, struggling for it, hoping that I could bring myself back to life; but, guess what? I never did.

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Posted by on October 9, 2017 in The Avenue

 

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Jouska

Jouska

Jouska

I like cancelled plans and missed trips.

I like the idea that not getting what you want is another stroke of luck.

I like finding something nice while looking for something else.

I like the flipping of the page to start a new chapter.

I like being awestruck in the moment.

I like the paling of the sky promising a new beginning.

I like watching the rain skittering down the window.

And feel the chrysalism I gain out of it.

I like walking on damped sideroads.

I like the astrophe I feel as I walk along.

And the petrichor I smell arousing from the wet grass.

I like bookshops’ vellichor.

And quiet coffee shops’ anemoic atmosphere.

I like this hypothetical conversation that I keep rolling in my mind.

I like being lost in ambedoic trancé as images from a distant past slowly yet, undeniably surface back in my mind.

I like having flight of thoughts.

I like the unsettling awareness of my own heartbeat.

I like to gambol on the staircase.

And to lilt in the kitchen.

I like my unkempt hair with over-worn pajamas.

I like empty boxes and scattered pens.

I like words and writing them.

I like silence.

I like space.

I like simplicity.

I don’t know why but I like not knowing why.

 
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Posted by on March 26, 2017 in Lyrics of Life

 

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