Interviews & Culture

In the dead of this night, the silence crawls. It is so creepily slow. I lay motionless. The fan whirs faintly as I focus on my breathing only to be greeted with much distraction.

Today, by regular standards, is a great day. I had a pact with Sleep and she relented.

I have a lot to say today. The words keep coming. Here it goes...

          "Man does not live on bread alone but on every Word that comes from the mouth of God".

This has gotten stuck to me. For ages and ages I have not made much sense till now. Indeed!

Is this what life is? You get all excited about things and you live in this bubble dream. You grow to fulfill this dream. Some know it as "mission". You live this ENTIRE good, quality YEARS making the lego-works connect and churn! Then you grow tired. Burnt out. But this indigenous fire keeps you going, kind of like how ants live to build, maintain and sustain the colony. It is not a thought. It IS. JUST it.

The time comes, or is the word, arrive? For all things to take stock for this continuum switches on the blades of time. You evolve as you propel towards finality and TRUE clarity of what it IS. Much has been achieved. Thank God for that. You wonder on the "what-if"s and the "why-not"s. This never ends because cyclically speaking, that is how the laws are bound. Though secrecy is not the code, pain belongs to this equation.

Death hovers when Time bids farewell. It feels like you have been robbed. No ills. Just bills and bills and bills. Bills for overworking. Bills for overstretching. Bills for missing the "never-did"s. Perhaps if given a new lease, you would take this very same route because that is how you have been wired for this thrill of a lifetime.

The sky never looked the same. Its colour more faded. At times the clouds cling onto the backdrops for fear cracks be revealed with clues to past-years; of peals of laughter so forgotten and wanton lies that corrode what is original, pure.
I see contamination every where. The land. The sea. The very air we breathe!

Is the an illusion or am I delusional because depression can warp all vision?
Why does a perfect day end like this? Where and what happened to all that excitement? A is for awesome. A is also for awful. Whichever it is, it spells a day.
Where was I again? I hardly remember. I do not know. Grind on. That is all there is to it, isn't it? L.I.F.E. stands for live it for experience. My closet. My take. What's yours?
Life is a closet of experiences. You may choose to reveal or choose to conceal. Whatever the choice, you call the shots.