There is pain. There is sheer agony. But, why or what is anger doing here? Helpless, but there is help and hope somewhere. The moments that overwhelm seem to take over everything nowadays. The flashing of how things should have been keeps elongating as things keep going otherwise in each phase of life. These flashes are blinding more and more of what is visible less and less. A return to who I was becomes inevitable in order to shed what keeps clouding. This, followed by embracing anger again; Only to end up in a never-ending cycle of strife that fails to ripen to rot someday.
Unable to keep pace with how and by what it was all lost, every battle gives one stark realisation and one dark result. When what is playing dictates the mood, it becomes a dance to the tunes instead of fine-tuning the stance. To be natural and retain the flow of emotions needs those days of ignorance. But, facts and circumstances devour on innocence and ignorance in this finite loop of surviving days and nights.
A definitive episode feels like an infinite chain of redundant results when the odds are always in only one's favour. Flipping a coin is of no use if it will land only on the same side. The gamble for a better tomorrow fades with the stale joke from a clearance sale. Some tunes play to suck the half alfoat self into a massive black hole with a gravitational pull equalling or at times exceeding the same pull into thy self.
Riddles. Ruddles everywhere. There is some joy in scribbling something and when it conceals what cannot be spoken aloud in a riddle. I NEVER write. I scribble. My purpose is not clearly defined to be a writer. I scribble. I conceal. I reveal. I play this gamble to somehow throw up as much as possible with words in an effort to create riddles all over that actually might mean something to others but the stark reality to be comprehended only by myself. -rPhoenix
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