When Diamonds Reach Its Rusting Age
June 16, 2009Here you are again, in the verge of confusion and uncertainty and only listening to some good old songs will make the wind you breathe suck out every poison that wants to conquer your every veins. The rain outside is cruel. Every hair strands of yours could not forget how much coldness they can bear to withstand the cruelty of the rain. To wipe every mud on your face, to kill every maggots infesting your blood, to make yourself feel like you’ve never lived life before. You would want to see how long will you drive without breaks on your pedal. Up to where you can reach with your idiosyncrasy while you race with bloodthirsty and smug faced bunnies en route. No there ain’t no need to step back. This is what you’ve been waiting for. Breaking the mirror of lies won’t do any magic between spotting the difference and playing hide and seek in this c
razy course of life. Friends welcome you to their doors. Enemies welcome you where coffee tables are served with hot Belgian sweets and spoiled Cuban chills, without telling you how long have they been waiting for you to bite pawns of deception. They swang you to and fro, and tied the knots where yews grow and quicksands hungry to devour whatever power left in you. Tears just can’t stop from streaming down and no matter how you wanted to put pressure on, it will leave you asking why would it always burst without you knowing when it will burst. Stripped down to the core, a teddy bear sat like a stone amidst the showcase of mannequins and marionettes, jampacked inside a toy store where no one would ever dare to peek for pleasure. Trapped down to the dungeon, a lion nesting with lies, insecurities and regrets, waiting for a meat to be tossed that seemed to him like an impossible dream. You were ugly and you became beautifully broken. Like a porcelain vase that lost its value from being shattered. You waited for the bus to come and fetch the wounded leg which was worn out and hopeless to support whatever’s up there to support. Life has become tiresome. You whispered more for life but neither a single molecule have captured the echo of a disappearing voice. I am me and the world is just so big for me. I would crouch whenever a thunder strikes above my head and would cry for shelter. I am me and I live in this world of no assurance. I am me and I will always live being me.
