Monday, 31 December 2012

Old New Year. How far is the land of happy lot? The world of Forgetting by the world forgot..

As this New Year goes back to the pavilion the Old year arrives.. (Yes, you haven't read it wrong), Nothing seems new, nothing: shattering illusions, stand like bizarre monochromatic rusted purples of attainment of self knowledge. : Let Ibsen explain if he can why the building of happy homes isn't the Ultimate destiny of man!...
 তুই চলে যাস একবার .. ছেড়ে যাস বারবার...      Solitude thrives to be a pedestal towards what "they" term: lack of psychotic neurosis I normality! I am not Unfit, Misfit serves the purpose. Existentialism runs through this freedom craving brain, engulfing yet transcending the self walled barriers of time, place consciousness.. Of the cross roads of counter culture,. Pulsating, brimming. বিষাদ বার বার হাতে হাত রাখো..ভয় নেই হারাবার যদি পাশে থাকো ...আমি যদি ভিড় হয়ে যাই।।
Self preservation and destruction are not merely antonyms, they have a conspicuous camaraderie with my sense of self. I have chosen to learn the second one. I am destructing myself, self willingly; as I say it’s an art. You gotta have guts for that. I have. I have nothing to lose. You can snatch nothing else from me. I am desperate. Lonely, without any hope of Resurrection.
I am lonely, solitary, lost contact with those who knew, Her:

Adrita may be her name. It is the time for self indulgent mavericks of self reflection... I am Solitary.. The way I desired! Yes self chosen, imposed by the circumstantial web. U term them intricacies, I put them as fate. I have blocked the doors that vowed to bring Life; again defined by You. I am indulging in the art of Self destruction. Clinging onto the old desires, Sorry Singular. Only one desire. (In no case you are going to fulfill, why do you need to know?) I just want to shut down. Close up and go away into myself for a while. I want to not exist until I'm ready to be real again. I want to be in a coma, just close my eyes and not wake up for weeks, months

ঘর কেন ঠিকানা হারায় ? কে তা জানে।

"Let us go then, you and I/ When the evening is spread out against the sky/ ---Let us go then through certain half deserted streets.. through muttering retreats." The unravinquished dilemmas do give way to the reinvention of memories. I feel like a vigil idiot at times. A saboteur of unfulfilled aspirations.

The doors won't be opened. Go away! Shoo... I am an outsider, a stranger in this strange world of furious abstractions... abbe-rations, where bridges give way to roads which crosses the lines, yet worlds never meet, roads don't give away to the doors to open up-to me and welcome. Upsetting the status-quo, have had been more exciting than following the well traveled road. Some presence of the loss, of the absence is eternal They reiterate with time. Nothing seems new, not even hopes.

Blank eyes never speak, Life at times is a sea of sounds: records Moments. People. Words. Silence is the new language. Time. Faces. Masks. Gray. Even Language dies every 14 days. I do so!...

And you want to travel with him And you want to travel blind
And you think maybe you'll trust him
For he's touched your perfect body with his mind.

I move into the world of alienation to find myself, one is company, two is crowded. I go out, for me it is exaltation, profuse, and profound. I go in Search of solitude...

Friday, 7 December 2012

I Learnt....

Life, sorry time has taught me lessons, specific ones that I cannot forget, let alone, remind my subconscious to  refill the same with a magnitude to forget. I must jot down,  before I allow my ever wandering mind to forget, the lessons of a lifetime as they are!

  • People build too many worlds and not enough Bridges, ; 
  • It's funny: people who know the least about you, have the most to vomit.
  • One can have anything; if one can sacrifice all; (life will gift you all the bitter experiences for the arousal of your consciousness)
  • To remember, we must FORGET! 
  • We meet people for Reason, in my case: LESSON.
  • People criticize you for being different, but deep down the psycho-Neuro chess obscure, they desire they had the courage to be like YOU.!
  • It's better to be alone, solitary than being like them (best friends) who lack a "self" slave mentality!
  • What does not kill you; makes you Iron strong, at times so much that people consider you to be cold, emotionless! 
  • Some barricades are forever, one of the self; no-one dares to cross, no-one desires to undress your conscience, and make love to your thoughts,: what consumes my mind; controls my life.  
  • Life operates by the fuel of loneliness, despite all the opiates,
  •  The shrill tinsel gaiety of "parties" without the sense of purpose, the false grinning faces we all wear.
  •  And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter - they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long.
  • You and I are like islands in the sea, separate on the surface, but connected in the deep: To you from me

  • It's better to keep silent than tell others how exactly you feel! They can hear you, but not understand.
  •   One day you suddenly realize you can share no more. You have become quiet. .. Like a cancer silence  grows!
  • Welcome to the lost world! You are on your way to neurotic traumas. They kill you: memorize every moment, yet you can't cry, you can't share. And they start calling you STRONG, INDIFFERENT. 
  • There's a difference between loss and lack. The emptiness inside is less, and the vanishing of the essence itself with all its magnitude and decrepitude is lacking. Lack is the absence of the whole. I desire a lack of memory.  
  • You need to be where you belong, err, Homelands... take me home.
  • It's hard to let go, when someone is a Part of you.
  • I belong to someplace else, some other world;  nothing else matters. 
  • Chance encounters keep what us going.
  • It's too easy to be strong, it's hard to be vulnerable. Vulnerability breathes life, makes you love, trust. 
  • Wild, irreparable grief? Unquestioning acceptance? Complete integration? Yes, I dwell amidst these..
  • Silence is the only peace

More to come.