Saturday, October 17, 2015

Bereft

I hid in darkness for fear of tainting the world with my poison for as long as I could. I felt it almost tangibly, a black inkiness extending its tentacles glibly and fluidly in all dimensions, temporal and spatial. The hooks embedded inside of me tugged me apart violently yet still holding me together. Pain had no realm, dancing over physical and emotional and blurring the lines so much I no longer felt the pain because of the sheer numbing agony.

There were too many people who cared. Who shook their heads sadly. Offering tissues. I don't need help.

I have gotten off the train before its left behind the past for too long, just so I dont break down in the crushing claustrophia of the scant crowds. It didn't matter if it was one or a thousand. It was too much. Instead, I walked the two hour commute back, lost and rambling, and in the newly arrived cold.

A child patting my hand to tell me it's OK only reminds me of the child we have lost. It's not safe to talk to strangers I tell her with my eyes. She's just learnt to walk, how has she leant to decipher pain?

Small steps, he said. Small steps. But I've fallen. I'm down. I'm walking. But where is home?

Thursday, October 08, 2015

Caryatid

Love: a feeling, promise, or contract?

At the very simplest form, we understand love to be a feeling. What else is love if it weren’t for feelings; what is felt; experienced?

But it isn’t just quite that exactly. The feelings itself is exclusive to the other party: it’s all about the personal experience even if stimulated by an externalizing factor.

As a promise, love takes a step up: it could be still purely personal and isolated in giving all to the sentiments of the feeling, but more often than not this signifies a transfer of something from one to another.

And yet a promise - could that also be a contract? A contract implies an agreement between two (or more) parties, and somehow there is something being exchanged – a two-way connection is developed.

But what happens when circumstances alter the very entity of that love? When things cannot be the same, when the exchange of that something isn’t exactly as dynamic as it once was? Is that still love?

Does love mean you abide and adhere to that something no matter what? That you hang on just because of something that existed in the past, and in anticipation of a tomorrow that would provide rational for simply hanging on today?

But what if every today keeps adding up, and soon all the weight of the past todays accumulated suddenly outweigh what once used to be the past? What if every today is hanging on, alone?

Suddenly this contract, be it signed in blood or tears, seems null and void. Even promises break. Feelings disperse. Even blood and tears dissipate into nothingness once again. Maybe love does too.