The orange blur of the morning rush
The misty twilight aching to scream
Is it the silenced pain that the world disavows?
The wrath of the candent noon
Caught between sultry blows
The flagrance of blighted hopes that the world denies....
The pitter-patter on broken windowsills
The faint glorious smell...
Is it rain or is it tears that the world doesn't cry?
The solitude of someone else's mistakes
A lonely moon amid the starry sky
Endless nights that betray the sullenness that the world doesn't claim...
Too harsh, too heavy, too dark, too morbid,
Dismembered and dispatched.
The lucky few have another to catch...
For the ones who don't,
Is the universe!!!
Of things impersonal, in personal words... Of things personal, in impersonal words
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Disorganised Musings of Dissociated Proclamations
Too many thoughts, picked up at random times and random places... The curse of an overbearing mind! Now how do we make sense of the enmeshed voices? How do we tell them apart from each other? Sometimes the voices inside your head scream with the pain of having been crushed by the madness that is not theirs. That's what everyone will say anyway. Why do we disavow our insanity, that is so innate to us? Why do we thrive in unremitting alienation from ourselves?
When there's too much, nothing ever really takes form. At least, that is how it is for some of us. Disorganised musings of dissociated proclamations.
Burnout becomes another one of those benumbing paradoxes when it creeps up on people who happen to love what they do. Perhaps then, there are some discordant unconscious motivations at work? Then again, it becomes hard to separate the micro- from the macro- when it comes to the marvel called mankind (I really happen to like that phrase - pretty much defines all that I believe in).
Sometimes it seems to me that Psychologists take the easy route by putting the entire onus on the individual. I know, society is made up of individuals... but sometimes, the sum is greater than its parts. Like so much else that we call human, it's a viscious circle. I guess we'll never really know what came first - the chicken or the egg!
When there's too much, nothing ever really takes form. At least, that is how it is for some of us. Disorganised musings of dissociated proclamations.
Burnout becomes another one of those benumbing paradoxes when it creeps up on people who happen to love what they do. Perhaps then, there are some discordant unconscious motivations at work? Then again, it becomes hard to separate the micro- from the macro- when it comes to the marvel called mankind (I really happen to like that phrase - pretty much defines all that I believe in).
Sometimes it seems to me that Psychologists take the easy route by putting the entire onus on the individual. I know, society is made up of individuals... but sometimes, the sum is greater than its parts. Like so much else that we call human, it's a viscious circle. I guess we'll never really know what came first - the chicken or the egg!
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