Crisis

Tonight's a different tale. He turned his back behind blue blinds. He turned so hard like she were a grounded balloon, landed from the purest of space, like a feather swaying her tail one beat at a time. He turned towards a blackened tattoo, mesmerized by the sole beauty of a witch's broom. A chapter later, she turned too, but to walk away in fragility, I heard her whisper in a far away land. I let it be while the bloke watched her take one wobbly foot in the front the other on this midnight street and walk away. Another city faded into the night. The breeze sang its silent song, so shrill, so ghostly, so lonely. 

These are a retroholic's confessions. My imaginary friends live up well to their names, Imaginary. Knowledge, wisdom, money, smoke, civilization; breathe their own stench. My rucksack diary lays amidst cinders while secret pleasures seek their stairway. I have held on to you for a while now and I will for some time to come. I'm trying hard not to be the obvious and I win every game I play. They say change is for the good and if that's not a lie, I have gone on to become the best of now. We put on culture like an overcoat and these are but socially acceptable behavioral traits. What happens when the sun shines during the summer? Do we undo the coats we mask ourselves in? The nexus of universal being where you exist is the most immediate zone of one's universe and this is what one needs to be bothered about. I wouldn't call it egocentric because I wish it were. On this night sea journey, I have roved all my baggage away to be left with just my feet, disinherited many words of love, of pain and of rain; all in the speeding train. It has gotten quite random in my shoes; it itches me. I wont dwell upon it too much but I'll rove my way towards my field of vision; I call it my mystical dimension. Obscure, divine, strange, wild, orphic it is where the ship sails. 

Ouch!! Having paid you a visit, I've bought me some electronic ache which pleads me now to pull the brake. You're invited to my lectures on trivalized life, but if you show some patience. I move to the edge of the bed to say goodbye when lightning struck this misty valley. Humanity was given a chance to sculpt for the gods to watch in awe. They watch alright, but in a blind alleys. Evolution has gone wrong at some point in time and only if one were to take a step back and forth again, we'd breathe a localized cultivation. Sanity has gotten alien and by the day, I await a logic bomb to explode on this soil while I take a step towards a momentary hibernation.