A Year after the World's End

"...5 seconds."

Something saddening happened today.

Isn't it amazing how sometimes you're so content with the moment and then you see something, hear a new voice, an old song or glance at an old picture and the past which you seemingly have been comfortable distant from all this time suddenly blankets you, rattles your mind so much that you, so certain of 'happiness' a moment before, aren't even sure who you are anymore?

It's been just over a couple of years. Yet, it feels like there is a lifetime ignored safely into some old boxes of memories that'll remain untouched. But, they sometimes un-box on their own, it seems. 

How the comfort of a cold evening, a rather astounding evening, having learned all the new things you could have learned in a day having been learnt, can be so easily disrupted. How could someone be so overpowered by emotions that he suddenly stops watching a tv show about some detective and novelist walking side by side solving a murder case and unraveling evidences and conclusions and surprising logical speculations from 'em and just stare outside the window through the gap the incompletely closed curtains make and look into a star and remember that star and the past and the mistakes and the joys and suddenly loose interest in everything at once? What is wrong with me? Hopefully, nothing that doesn't effect everybody else.

There she was, right where I'd last seen her. Polaris, the north star, shining just like she does everyday. There was a time when I'd stay out watching stars and mapping 'em. Reading all kinds of books, watching all kinds of videos I could find of 'em in the hope that I'd understand her more somehow. As if learning the distance between us is going to make any difference! But, you know, it does. It does make a difference. It makes me more human. It's surprising how little she seems. I live in half a pixel, she lives in half. She is so distant from us all, so distant from me. So far away form me and yet the feeling that she is there and I am here and that we will be here for as long as possible and perhaps all though my conscious life and we'll see each other and that I'll attach her to some phase of my life and smile just upon her sight and recollect everything I've lost on this journey and turn around and start it all over again and that there will be nothing else but this mere vague attachment to her in some sorts somehow makes it all better. How petty! She is a enormous ball of fire and I am nothing compared to her and yet I talk as if she's mine to keep. She's a star. No, she's a guide star. She has shown sailors the way in the past and now she's showing me, a pirate of some sorts, mine. 

On a side note, I did learn of Juno Project to Jupiter today. Apparently, it's going out into an orbit around the sun then upon an entire rotation come close to us once again and then be shot out by Earth's gravity to reach Jupiter circling about its poles. That should be interesting.

Regret

In pain, I wailed her name, in tears I apologized,
Played the 'romance' so very well - just as I had devised,
Obsessed over her - more than was wise -
And, I knew her well enough to see through her lies.

Many new faces I hated, many old despised,
Isolated, made a fool of and yet, failed to entice,
Forgot many, forgot any - against she who advised,
But, grew still to know her too well to see through her lies.

Sacrificed everything, anything for her without thinking twice,
Really, I did - yelled at myself, cried and apologized,
And, yet, she's gone, drifted from me, and perhaps it was wise,
For she, I - we both need a better root from where to rise,

I obsessed over her though - more than was wise,
Knew her well enough to see through her lies,
Yelled at her, cried for, and gave up just as fast,
Regretted every horrible things I said, right 'til the last.
[I obsessed over her - more than was wise]

Running Late

Somehow it doesn't matter, you see.

As vague as that might have sounded, it is what's 'ultimate' right now. Did I come to be as a culmination of chaos? Does my perception distort reality to such a degree that it is incomprehensible to any fellow Homo sapiens (if in fact they are real)? Does my significance actually amount to nothing? Do my values, my beliefs matter even on the smallest, tiniest scale? Is my infinitesimally 'tiny' self ever going to make a difference? I don't know. So, it doesn't matter, you see - truth doesn't matter at all anymore.

There is a void inside of me like a collapsing novae. Sucking everything in as it crumbles seemingly into non-existence. One day, maybe today or tomorrow or the day after and just like a star does, it is going to explode. Someday, I am going to be so over-whelmed by my own consciousness that the heaven watch in awe (perhaps, or perhaps in silence) as my pathetic non-existence cries out one last time for a brief moment of acknowledgement as I burn out into a secluded, ominous form - hollow, feared and loathed. But, that doesn't matter either. Someday I am going to die. Or, am I already?

The night sky glitters all the same. It is enticing at the least. It gives me a smile - depreciating maybe but a moment of awe in which I find myself drawn into staring at them, looking at them and realizing - just getting a hint of how passionate they are over what they do is worth the mockery I sustain myself. And, who is to say it matters anyways? Betelgeuse might already have said her last words. Orion nebulae might already have harbored life. And, somewhere some really intelligent civilization might be looking over our little planet - our dear Earth's past version, in her teens as vanity reigns her and she tries to take over the bears' home. Maybe she will survive long enough to freeze over even but I won't be around. No, I won't be around as the ones looking over us decide to pose as 'God' one more time or when our Sun decides his daughter is getting a bit too vain and puts a stop to her advances. So may possibilities and yet the only thing I can be certain of is that my conscious mind will never be able to see what really happens. Maybe nobody (humans, at least) is that lucky. So, you see, it doesn't matter.

I am but a mere human, separated by the rest of life-form by a power to contemplate, to imagine. That's it. No entirity of anything. No truth for me, for us. We are dead inside and it will reflect out soon.

Searching

I have lost my way.

Waking up just like I do everyday,
Sometime a bit later than I usually do,
I watch the world through the window pane,
A world where I once grew.

The sights are enticing, nay!
The sights now bring to me sorrow,
The people I see through the window pane,
Were the same the day before and tomorrow,

What is lost, what isn't there anymore,
What ceased to exist - the fear won't go until -
The query is made - the 'why' with a different plot,
Why am I alive, why am I breathing still?

What is there to this grandeur,
Contemplation if it is not?
What is to life or living even,
If it's all pain and naught?

I need a way out,
Even if in endless strife,
For the joy in living lives only,
If there is a life.

Besotted

"You know nothing of fear, my friend",
He said as he sat sighing beside me,
"Fear of death you mumble till you end"
"Yet no fear could be as frightening -
As losing she.

"She speaks so soft - an angel you'd wonder,
And smile so pure onto your face joy it brings,
The song no words the choir can but ponder,
And her face when you see, you heart sings"

I smile unknown to him that I can but laugh,
At the delusions this man carries,
He will see how little she is, soon enough
Or maybe once he marries - she.

"You know nothing of love, my brother"
He speaks on with his heart, out loud.
He claims, "Love is she - "
"Blessed onto me",
And his songs of her, fill the air,
As he smiles with a face so proud.

She, a goddess if you may, is mortal,
Your love is, your life is but a blur,
She is nothing more than mediocre,
She is not love, not joy, not immemorial.

She is a human, like then all,
Insignificant - equal.
Love is no time, love ends the same,
Love is but a passion's game.

The Goddess of Love

So fair when seen from Earth,
Up close this goddess is hideous.

Fuddle

The sobriety of the delusions that surround us,
Among the chaos that sound beside me,
Of a hundred men making a redundant fuss,
The shadows of death is all that we see.

Within the sanity, a voice can be heared,
Within us, though, silence clings on to be,
And, we laugh at a love that we cherised upon a time,
The joke, the humor is all I can see.

But, hold me one more time, just once my heart,
Let the light fade as we all vanish into darkness,
And, the shadows of those men overtake our sobs,
As we cower into the disparity we harnessed.

Know what I am - yes, that is all that counts,
The sorrow is evident in your eyes,
And, let this be known, as the departure mounts,
We are, at last, free of the lies -
Of a love and of the illusions of care,
As, at each other, we hopelessly stare,
Into a sound that within us rings
And, at the memories, all the memories the longing brings.