Moment(s) of Inertia August 29, 2011Posted by Akriti Bahal in Uncategorized.
Of late I have begun to lose the ability to form sentences. For reasons unknown, I prefer to utter (incoherent) strings of words rather than put up with the trouble of trying to make everything sound syntactically appropriate. Which explains why I haven’t been writing (or rather haven’t been able to write) about the ‘my-kinda’ topics for quite some time now. (I mean, look at our country! A single man takes the initial step against the spectre – Corruption. People from all walks of life come forward. Make the protest such a huge and widespread movement. Many times the protest is shunned. But nothing encumbers when you have unity around. And finally, the seed that a single man called Anna Hazare sowed, develeped into a fruit when the Corrupt-ers agreed to look into it.) Believe me, it’s taking me alot of effort. And not just writing, the incapacity extends itself to speaking, eating, trying to sleep, waking up, blinking, breathing. It’s like some kind of an inertia has set in. I am losing sense of time, and of a sense of conduct, of propriety. Most of today has been spent with That’s why (you go away) blaring into my ears on repeat and episodes of Friends in front of my eyes. It’s not my usual whine routine. It’s a strange kind of sadness. Dry sadness. Literally and metaphorically. It’s no longer about me not thinking straight, more of me not being able to think at all. The voices in my head are all gone, leaving behind a calm spooky silence. A scary stillness, which instead of freaking me out, is actually making me warm up to it. No tears shed.
Numb. Comfortably, for once. And I am not craving for counselling, or comforting, for once.
Being attached to people to the extent of craziness is not always a great idea (in fact it never is). Because then they settle somewhere nice and comfy deep inside of you. Like Sheldon would say, they find Their Spot. And when you see their expressions in return, they are enough to fracture your spirit miserably, to completely disintegrate you from the inside. But you need to deconstruct before you can pull yourself together again, right? You need to die to be born again, right? And everything happens for the best, right? Right? But, what was the best in this, then?
Well, I follow the always read something that will make you look good if you die in the middle of it canon, and so I exhort the same for you too. Hence, this is just a wimpering post, (tired himself by the excessive usage of the despondent words too) which you’d surely not wanna die in the middle of. But I promise for better works on worthwhile topics, in future. For now, just be happy with this.
I remember the days we spent together were not enough
And I used to feel like dreamin’ except we always woke up
Never thought not having you here now would hurt so much
Tonight I’ve fallen and I can’t get up
I need your loving hands to come and pick me up
And every night I miss you, I can just look up
And know the stars are Holding you, holding you, holding you Tonight.