Winter's coming over

Kuch log rooth kar bhi

Lagtay hain kitnay pyare.

The answer my friend

Is blowin' in the wind.

Ever wondered where all the hate, love and indifference comes from? All the facets of emotion. Of things we 'feel'. Something neurotic. Something to do with the ball of nerves sitting up above your eyes. 

Ofcourse I am feeling so much. Yet, I am saying nothing.

My tongue is locked. My hands are hand-cuffed.

I am numb.

Gripping irony, scintillating horror pushing its limits. New and unimagined fears cascading my tomorrow. My present has been jeopardized by the threads of existence. Like thrashing drums bombarding my ear-drum-skin with a moment so hard-hitting, it stings, it hurts, it pains, it pierces. It is fatal, in the moment.

Change, you ask? What graceful talks I present to you, when its time to let you know? What moment of truth shall I reveal when its time to reveal it all. And I let the little buzzing noise control me, take over me. I am asking for peace from something that is not ready to give it away. I am thinking what I don't have to think. I am a loser, because I am looking at lands that do not mean anything. So what do we do now?

Winter's coming over. I am looking back one year ago. Life was so strange. So different. Am I wishing for those times again? Am I working like I used to work? Am I the person I used to be?

Questions that will eat the inside of me. Carve out a place out of me. And take me away from me.

Please let it stop.