Masters of the Universe
Life goes on, time doesn’t stay for anyone you know. We may wish, we may even want for things to remain the same or find it difficult to evolve out of a state of mind but we eventually need to move on. For things aren’t always constant and everything around us doesn’t ever remain the same. “Times change, people change” and you can pretend to be the same person you always were but you will be doing yourself a great favor by realizing its not so. We however, prefer the fantasy; prefer to keep things the way they are. A man is a creature of habit they say and that is what we all strive for. We need a routine, we need a schedule, we need a plan and everything around us has become structured in a way that it requires us to keep things in order. It comes as no surprise that given the time available to us for forming a course, we end up chasing the same bus. We are all following the same band wagon only we do it in cults and make ourselves feel like we are different, that we stand out from the rest. Fact is, we don’t. You are just like me and me, I am just like you. We are all driven by the same force, at the end of the day we both want the same thing. I may be better than you, I may be willing to make some compromises and that may take me places where you may never reach but that still doesn’t change the fact that I am still the same as you.
“A mind is a terrible thing to waste”, a mind really is an incredibly terrible thing to waste. The power the human mind possesses is far more than we believe we can comprehend. The mind would always work, it would always want to govern, it is made to do that and when it takes control who knows where it takes us. It is all our choice though, we control who we are. It is entirely our decision to let the body dictate the mind that it is tired and that it would rather be left alone to atrophy or we can let our will take charge of the decisions our mind reaches. A strong will is forged with a strength greater than steel, a strong will is what differentiates the winners from the losers in the otherwise carnival of rat-race and parade of self acclaimed individuals.
We can wish, pray or look for someone to pull us up, but that is worth nothing. We can fantasize about the seductive maiden named luck but fantasies do only one thing for us; they serve the purpose of keeping us happy, they let us imagine an alternate reality but reality doesn’t change till we actually go ahead and do something about it.
And so I dream for my world to change, I wish for a lucky break
But nothing seems to come my way, and I blame you my wretched fate
Kerosene
I was burnt alive and even though what was once my physical being is reduced to nothing but ashes that are scattered all over the plains by the winds I can still sense that sick smell of the combination of my skin, flesh and fat burning. Throughout my life I thought I will do something about the huge amount of fat I carried everywhere under my skin but I had never despised it like I despised it at that particular moment. To me it felt that as my soul wants to leave this furnace of agony my sheer size is holding it in and every inch of fat I have is burning like the fuel of a lamp; sluggish yet strong. They say your life flashes before you when you are about to die, I can honestly say that is not true for someone whose spirit transcended the way mine did. As every inch of my body burned and the flames ate away on my eye lids all I could see was a blinding whiteness. I screamed and I screamed till I could feel the heat inside my lungs and then I screamed some more. I hoped to god whom I never really believed in that I go blind, that I lose my power to feel, that I can not smell the disgusting smell of my own fumes. No, the instinct of survival was still there, I did not want to die, my conscious self did not want to leave the physical counterpart and so it grabbed onto everything it could, it burned as everything in me which was matter burned and then it cursed as the ashes fell and the consciousness separated from the core and realized it can live on its own. But the memory of the soul is as vivid as the memory of a human mind and even though I lost my senses I can still feel every second I spent in that inferno.
Blankness Lost
I am a blank sheet of paper. Okay no, I was; I feel the small ball of a ball point pen roll over me and I am pretty sure that ball is putting ink on me. This is awkward, I wanted to say that I am a blank sheet of paper and remain that way. Trouble is that the only way I can speak is through ink, that is, the ink on my now lost blankness. I don’t know if losing the blankness is something similar to losing virginity. You always have it and then it’s gone forever. My existence doesn’t matter anymore, now I am not the paper I wanted to be. I wish someone would tear me, I feel dirty.
My Cube
I live in a cube. I like everything in perfect squares. The walls, the doors, the windows, even the cupboard. Good thing I was born with money and my shape is a square. People who have similar feelings for triangles or circles don’t have it this easy. I don’t like to talk of the place they end up at because it makes me feel abnormal, but I am not. I just prefer if things are square. I have a square fan, but it can’t work because its not balanced or something according to the designer, still it is square. I would die of heat in my cube but my square air-conditioning unit keeps the temperature sane for me. I can’t use regular monitors on my computer or a regular TV. They don’t come in square screens. Though, thanks to China I import custom designed square screens. The picture is always funny because the transmission is designed for regular dimensions. I doesn’t matter though, I like that it is square. My wardrobe is nothing but check shirts, all of them with tiny little perfect squares. I know cause I always measure each and everyone of them squares personally. I cant live outside my cube because the rest of the world doesn’t know the beauty of symmetry. I am elite, I see things they can’t. I don’t need them either. My life is perfect because I live in a cube.
Keepers of Fate
The swords smitten with anger, the iron forged with hate
I strike to kill, kill the lying bastards who fuck fates
A nail to the head and there never will be a mutiny
A crew of dead, rots forever to protect our destiny
