He was unsure again. He was quite a shadow reflected of his small TV screen. In the depths of that grey reflection he didn’t see the act he knew he really was.
He could have been otherwise. He knew so. But he liked to think it was a choice. He said he would stop being what he was if she wasn’t with him. He liked to believe he had stopped being because she has chosen not to be with him.
This state though was beyond what he had bargained or believed in. He had attempted being otherwise. Laugh a few laughs. Act nonchalant. Be something he wasn’t. But then wasn’t all that it entailed being someone else if she chose to be absent. And it was about choices.
What did he think? Did he hate? Did he not?
When he was trying to go over 100 kmph, was he thinking of thrill or the hate in him? Was he only cautioning him to be careful that he could be in an accident or did he want to be in one?
He always knew he was a pessimist but he always was an optimist when it came to anyone else. He wanted to be depended on. Though he just couldn’t. At least not anymore.
He built his affection around the things which couldn’t act of their own accord. Which couldn’t think or feel. These would be machines. Only capable of physics…
It was easy to be detached though he knew he wasn’t. He felt exposed having confessed everything to her. He hoped he hadn’t been honest but he was a born fool.
Every thought every emotion every feeling every desire every dream every hope started and ended at her.
Though he knew he was weak but he had never known to feel weak. So it felt strange of being unsure and weak. She kept coming back to him.
So he set her on fire. And while she was burning he realised that it wouldn’t change anything… so he put his hand into the fire where his diary was smouldering and held her. The smell of skin was over powering him. He bit into a pillow while his hand burned. Knowing he wouldn’t be able to use that hand in loo the next morning, he choked trying to laugh while stifling his shouts. He lost consciousness at some point. He woke up shouting with pain and her ashes in his roasted hand…
He shrieked knowing that it wouldn’t change anything… He would remain in pain… She had ripped her pound of flesh.
9 comments:
gwoss!!!
Setting her on fire.. Somethin I would do not you!!!
using the hands for loo next morning... very human!!! I have had quite few incidents where u need to be serious but there is nothing u can do but laugh!!!
painful indeed!!!
brilliant really brilliant...
Inspite of putting ur entire self into something else...someone else...your still you...its all inside you and that'll never change...and so the laugh in all its futility!
I liked it...crisp and well written.
Hmmm.. Very blatantly honest piece of writing, I would say..
Quite well written also..brilliant imagery..
He always knew he was a pessimist but he always was an optimist when it came to anyone else. He wanted to be depended on. Though he just couldn’t. At least not anymore.....liked this immensely
beautiful indeed, sir
with an online journal, its easier, click delete and they are gone forever, no burns, still silent shrieking from within though
with an online journal, its easier, click delete and they are gone forever, no burns, still silent shrieking from within though
Been long since u blogged :|
question: why do you think it was about choices and not about feelings? i shouldn't assume, but by the way you put it, you sort of imply my question in your text
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