Tag Archives: contemporary

Untitled II

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Some people don’t need love
Or want it
They are well aware of the perfection called solitude
Now I’m not saying that love is a made up concept
Something to chase after in order to validate our existence
Like, “fuck yes! Someone loves me and wants me”
No
No
I’m glad you want love and seek it
Pursue it
Conquer it
Let it devour you
I’m just saying that for some people
Love isn’t enough
And they want more out of life
Perfect solitude
Some books
Good wine
Laughs and a handful of friends

Which I think is an alright way to spend life
An alright ride to eternity

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It’s too early for rehab

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Near my house they’ve opened up a rehab center
It’s called “Panah” and the board outside reads
A solace for people trying to turn a new chapter
For addiction is a disease
And if your loved one is an addict then they need us
You know?
To rid of the disease
I see a dull brown building and some people standing outside
My guess is that they have a loved one that needs saving
Because, their loved one has slipped into a spiral of addiction
Where crawling out without help is a utopian concept

So one needs doctors
Nurses
Lots of sedatives
Psychologists, too
And a fair amount of support from family
I can’t guarantee friends
They never stick long enough

But yes, you need isolation
So you can think about the pain you’ve caused
With your habits
You know?
Mixing vodka with amphetamines
Crossing pot with acid then whiskey
Injecting heroin then drinking then smoking pot
All that foolery one indulges in when one is an addict

So you get locked up in solitude to think
Sedated enough to not stir up trouble
But not enough to shut your mind off
Think about why your habits have caused so much pain to your loved ones
So you think and think and think
Oh, God I need a drink
But you realize if it wasn’t for your loved ones
You wouldn’t be in this shit
Not everyone needs care or love
Some people just need a drink
When they are on the brink

The traffic on the highway

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The construction on the highway
Has the traffic crawling
So I cannot normally cruise
But rather spend long hours in line
Stuck
Looking at blank faces
Men and women
Some have children in the backseats
Looking ahead
To nowhere

The rush hour has everyone
Running back to their homes
To their bored lives
Running to watch soap operas
Which shows a life of romantic grandiose
The likes they will never live but only see on the telly
Running to watch the news
Cursing the government but unable to start a revolution
Running to the end of the day
Only to start again

What we need is a revolt
Against our old systems
Rip it out from the root and burn it
Throw it in the air

But we don’t
Because, a revolt against the system would mean
A revolt against self
We’re quick to take action against others
Not ourselves

I pick a bottle of whiskey on my way
Running to no way particularly
Cheers to my own revolution
I smirk
Maybe, I’ll be a changed man
Or so I would like to think

In memory of you

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When I first met you
I liked how fast paced you were
The thrill excited me
You once asked me, why we were friends?
I said, you’re exciting to be with and you teach me things
You laughed and asked what things?
Well, I could not answer then
But now I know exactly what you taught me

Love will always conquer hate
But never enough
Truth will always take you close
But never close enough
Happiness is everything in between
Your hand and my hand
Tiny but plausible enough
Life will always make you breathless
But never enough to knock you out

Until it does
And you are six feet under
Cold
Unable to come back
In that case, it is enough

You were always just so much
But never enough

May you watch the heavens burn, kid
Or
Wait a while
I’ll bring a lighter soon enough

Rest in peace
With lots of love but never enough

What fuckery is this?

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I look at the long stretch of road ahead
As I drive home after a day of doing nothing
The truck I see in my rear view mirror
Looks very tempting to crash into
I imagine how it would be
Tilting the car to the side
And
The collision would have me drifting off
Off the highway to the other side
Impact from the collision would leave me unconscious
I hope dead
But then someone laughs
I think in my head, or the radio

You see the thing about bipolar disorder is that it creates scenarios
Shit that won’t happen but it is fun to imagine
My mind will convince me that it’s the best thing to do
Crash my car
Break stuff
Vandalize public property
Or go on an excessive abusive spree

Disturbed cognitive functioning sometime means that I alter my perception of reality
So I’ll imagine cruising down the highway at 100km an hour
After having a wonderful time out
And suddenly it would hit me that I don’t want to live anymore
At times I will go silent in a second
Because the happy switch that made the world seemed perfect
Was flicked out
It’s time for the gloom to take over

When you swing between extremes
You’ll be out hiking with your best pals at 8 am on a Monday
Laughing and dancing
But the very night
You decide that you’re not leaving the house for the next five days
The very sun you embrace
Is like thumb pin pricks on your skin
And your bones decide that the weight of all of this is too much
So your mattress on Wednesday will have imprints of your skin
On Friday the voices will haunt you
This is not real, you know it
Yet you won’t move
Because,
You know that happy days have a price tag associated with them
And this
This is the price you have to pay for being so happy the previous week

Sometimes, you imagine that nothing is real
And that you don’t want to wake up from this
Other times you slap yourself because it’s unbearable

Your friend comments how happy you look
And you don’t tell him that you’ve practiced this smile in the mirror
All the way from home

So next Monday
You refuse to give up
The world is not beautiful and it’s not painted in your favorite colors
And sunny days are not the best ones
A lot of times you want to kill yourself
On spot
But you don’t
Because, fuck! You deserve to live and carve out the life you want
The happy days will be back
You’ll live this one through as well
Till then,
Scream on your way home
Don’t crash into that truck

Gypsies in Love

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A gypsy heart
You and I
Wanderers running in search of the next best thing in life
Present known

A nomad soul
You and I
We danced our way through life
Tomorrow unknown

Khanabadosh, someone once said
You’re one of them
He is too, the woman pointed
Bound to leave eventually but you’re meant to be
Somewhere up in the constellations

I don’t believe in chaining people down
You don’t believe in commitments
We head for a shipwreck among the stars

Let us drown
Let us drown
Among the ones where we belong

Lovers United

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Depression. It’s like a lover that sweeps me up in its arms and throws me on the bed so hard that I end up breaking no bones but for the next few weeks, I can hardly get out of bed.
No. I don’t want to be yours, anymore. I see it go away and muster the strength to start afresh in life. Every effort against it is a win. I think I’m winning.
But, I am afarid.
I’m afraid that it is still there lingering like a shadow ready to turn into a ghost that will haunt me. It stares at me from outside the window and I am too afraid to let fresh air in because I cannot run the risk of letting it come back.

Depression is back. Sometimes the emptiness in my chest gets so heavy that I find it hard to breath. I end up beating my chest to unclog my lungs in an effort to rid of this disease. It goes away but I’m not sure for how long. I wouldn’t know because last time I spent two months without it and bid it farewell.

What I’m saying is that the dark clouds are back again and like everytime, I fear that there would be no way out of this. I’ll crumple like a piece of paper in the corner of my bed and my bones would sink into the mattress. My chest would be empty and suffocation will be the death of me.
I see it smoking by the door. Depression.
It’s coming at me like a war torn lover coming home.

Wrong Places

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I wish to have loved you in another place. Maybe another continent where the sea could run through your veins and you wouldn’t have to worry about drowning. Maybe a place where the air is gentle on our skins and we do not fear it becoming a tornado. Maybe another land where we could have played with the constellations instead of mistaking a fallen star for a drone attack.
I wish to have loved you in another place, another time or another dimension.
All my life they told me to be wary of people who talk sweet but have poison lips. It’s a sacred body described in metaphors. They taught me to stay away from the ones who dare to paint their futures with blood stained hands because the likes of them are dangerous.
Men are dangerous.
Women are deadly.
I’ve been away far too long from those who wore their flaws like medals and declared war on their past to have the future that they painted.
I wish to have loved you in another place where my lips weren’t poison. We didn’t need metaphors to describe our love. I wish to have loved you in another place where the air swept through our pores and the tornadoes didn’t ruin us. A place where we could have played with the stars and your wish on the fallen one would come true. I wish to have loved you before I became one of them, another one from the lot of blood stained hands brewing poetry behind closed doors in an effort to taste freedom.
I have loved you in the wrong places but the time was always right.

Love in loveless

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I’ve always been against the notion of “hard” love.

A love that does more harm than good to your soul is not the sort of love you should strive for. Like a lot of things being in love sounds very poetic but living “a life with the love that you want” is an entirely different concept.

There is a moment when you need to decide that there is no place for a love that makes life hard.

A moment where you need to recognize that toxicity is not a synonym for liberation.

Love is a poetic concept but it should not make you dwell in riddles for long