It strikes. It strikes and then disappears into the blue. The moment the scales tilt in the favour of happiness, the long whip of gloom strikes to tear away the skin of peace.
Haven't all of us had such moments? Moments, when, in the midst of quiet revelry, that creature of darkness comes to haunt you. A picture of despair so vivid that it screams into the iris of your eyes and pulls apart your facade. And it hurts. It so hurts to witness that memory of failure in the nucleus of success that you're celebrating on the clouds. It so hurts to lay your eyes on the glossy cover of success when you are writhing in the depths of failure.
Your memories crouch, lurking in some some neglected corner of your mind, waiting for a chance to spring upon at the slightest whiff of joy. They remind you of the dark caverns of gloom when you are busy basking in the sun of glee. Yet, you can't escape them. How, after all, can you escape your thoughts? They strike without warning, gnawing away at every morsel of happiness that has been scattered upon your heart. You try to push them away, try to live in the moment. But then, darkness is a persistent cloud. It doesn't warm the cold caves of separation nor does it allow you to enjoy the candle of togetherness.
They all haunt you. Memories of love that clutch your heart when you are yearning to hate. Memories of hatred that torture your soul when you are reaching out to love. Memories of intimacy when you are learning the language of separation. Memories of separation when you are seeking to rebuild the gardens of love. Memories of despair when you are embracing hope. Memories of joy when you are slaving to the whims of misery. It is in moments like these that you know realize the fragility of life. Moments like these, when both the roads at the fork lead to nowhere. These are the times when you can't shut your mind nor can you open your heart.
Remembering memories is like having a knife pointed at your back. Facing them makes you turn around to pierce it through your heart. It's a moment when you are stuck in reverse.
Unwilling to hold on, unable to let go.
3 comments:
I say this all the time: "I exist in the present but live in the past"
To me the past is like this colossal playground. I keep playing and exploring.
@shadowed meanings
But somewhere, somehow, every playground has a dark,unpleasant corner. And some bruises never heal.
You explore the light on your own but the darkness draws you into its womb.
But the fact remains, there's a reason we move on. :)
NICE!... :)
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