Here I am, slumped in the comfort of my room, huddled up on the cosy armchair that sits facing my desk. Fingers hovering above the keyboard, it was as if they had a mind of their own and were hesitant about getting down to typing. I call this feeling, a
word clot.
Word clots around the heart - clots that even Daflon would be put to shame.
Personally, I've always felt that
word clots are far worse in comparison to blood clots. If I had a blood clot, things are much simpler - I'd probably die a slow, impetuated death as blood (which also happens to be the cause of the death) eventually stops travelling through my body and heart. Its funny when you stop and think. The same essential you need to run through your body to survive, is stopping you from living now. Irony, ain't it? In conjunction to that, what would happen then, when a
word clot occurs?
We don't die - we all know that. But such subrtle, silent torment summons insurmountable surges of emotions that even death would seem inferior in any way possible.
Given the modern context of today's society, people grow up learning to feel less each day. Deep within my conflicting consciece, that would make me a mere infant - a concept of which i obviously cannot seem to accept nor swallow both factually and fictionally. As these thoughts continued running incessantly through my cranium, i realised that there are too many factors attributed to the loss of reality and what it meant. Gradually, my perception of the world started to fall apart and everything doesnt seem to make sense anymore. Nothing. Perhaps this explains the recession and market crashes - the world's building blocks and pillars of strength shaken. Realisation, admittance and change is what we neeed. Humanity and the world never was about monogamy even before Eve was created for Adam. I could go on almost forever about this incoherent place we live in and the emotional roller coasters it offered and still has, in abundance.
My dearest sister,
you know, you never fail to throw me
word clots. This isn't a public complain but i want you to know that whenever something happens, its not because i have nothing to say or that i cannot be bothered.
Word clots happened, and always do. I don't want to put you down and pin you to the ground with mud in your face because it really isn't my job, i felt. Nor do i want to raise you up and allow you to succumb to fallacies. I care, in a different gesture your/my parents do. Suppression isn't a solution for me, its a way out. I do not want to run away. At the back of my head, it sends a subtle fear sluicing up from my spine, a creeper in a snake-like motion. As much as i want you to know that i am not running away, please, running away from reality really isn't a solution. Reality is harsh, but its a phase in life that just gets tougher than you think it seems. When you reach the corners , you'll have to turn around, hang your head low and come crawling back the same way you ran away from... Its only gonna make things worse.
;life is but a destination you set for yourself.
