Incurable

He was bored to the bone

Never picked up his phone

Said he would talk to nobody

Plug out the speakers of your party

He was bored to the bone

Lazy hours went by too soon

Got up and on a long holiday

Big Daddy’s credit card could pay

There was silence in the crowds

His ears bursting inside out

New language hit the town

The world got upside down

He’s a wasted, lazy log

He ain’t got no paying job

Mama’s searching a rich doll

Happy to marry her slob

He was bored to the bone

Did nothing but whine and groan

Youth is wasted on the young

A case of philosophers’ syndrome

21

(Alt+F4)

There was a soft knock on the door even though I had left it open. I only know one person who has the courtesy to knock even if the doors are open and he was standing just there- smiling. Knowing it’s him, I didn’t look up and so he came noiselessly in and sat by my side on the carpeted floor. It had just gotten dark outside and I had not turned on the lights. I love dark. The general notion about the dark is that it signifies sadness and horror but somehow, I have always found it to be soulful and liberating. It had just been five minutes when I came in the drawing room and sat in one corner on the cold floor. The wall opposite was dimly lit by the light coming from outside through the windows. I had come here hoping that no one will find me or come looking for me- but he always does.

His smile faded a little, but he kept looking at me still- now with an inquisitive look.

“What exactly are you doing here?”- not able to hold any longer he asked rather cheerfully. I can never fully comprehend why he becomes so cheerful around me. Sometimes I suspect he’s mocking me.

“Nothing”- I said. Still staring blankly at the wall.

“Nothing?”

“Precisely”.

 I don’t know exactly for how long I have known him. Maybe, forever but there’s always something new to be discovered about him and with that about me too. What I can tell you is that he asks many questions and besides that, it can be said that he is a man of very few words. However, no one is really sure of him being a man yet.

I turned to look at him for the first time now. “I’m trying not to think” I told him. “I have been doing too much listening, talking and especially thinking. It’s very exhausting”.

“Yes. It is”- he sighed. He wasn’t smiling anymore but I knew he understood. We didn’t say anymore. The silence felt soft and gentle. Like a warm cup of tea in winter evenings. In this silence we were comfortable. We sat there for around twenty minutes. After that he got up and left as quietly as he had come in. I followed. Everyone was sitting in the lounge and I was glad nobody asked me ‘where have you been?’

In that silence though, everything seemed static and unreal. Reality- I have found, is very dull and over-rated. People should practice being imaginative without thinking too much. It’s always so pacifying. I discovered that sometimes doing nothing means everything and also I had found peace with him that day. He- a figment of my imagination.

wp

When the monster under my bed left without saying goodbye!

It’s middle of the night. You have had a long day but even though you are tired and cranky after all the work you have done today and more so, for all the work you still have not managed to get done with- you can not sleep.

You draw the curtains close, turn off the lights, punch your pillow and rub your feet together gently under the blanket which could not get more warm or comfortable. You can sense your back muscles relax as you lie while emptying your head from all thoughts so as to tell your body that you are about to sleep.

But just as you close your eyes, it’s as if all your sense have sprung into action. It’s now, that you can hear distinctly the cat meowing out there somewhere and you think about the light outside your room that keeps flickering.

Although nothing really provoking has occurred but you suddenly open your eyes and sit-up straight as if someone has punched you hard in the stomach. You can actually hear your stomach growl. You don’t need water, you are not even hungry and you are damn tired but there is an incomprehensible vacuum in which your head is hung and you cannot bring it back. In that moment of despair as you focus hard on ‘whats gone wrong?’ , you realize you need nothing, you want nothing and you are alone. It simply gets frustrating.

under_my_bed_upgrade_803325

honestly speaking…

To tell the truth truthfully and not just say something and then pretend its the truth, so much that I eventually may start deceiving myself  to believe that it is but truth, is a difficult thing to do. But, honestly speaking; I would not as much as lift a finger if I were to do anything solely for myself. Its not because I can’t; even though laziness happens to be my favorite to exercise as well as most despised sport, it can always be overcome with a little will power and reasoning with myself. What actually yields this miserably hopeless state is the fact that I am naturally content with nothing-ness.

This probably means nothing but I am content with not giving this excuse any more weight than what it already carries…and that too is nothing.

lazy