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Coffee
Friday, April 10, 2020
Hello, Your uncanny faith in what we have, what developed along the way, to uncertainties ahead. Is most of my muse these days. I did not bring anything to the table, nothing beyond necessities. Yet you morphed whatever scrap we had, mold its concoction of an existence to a meaningful whole. You could have moved on, you could have ended it all, you can still just fade to a life of your own. Which is fine, I too will wither away, in parts, slowly, one shade at a time. …
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Puppeteer
Thursday, April 9, 2020
Puppets! He mutters, not free, in a monolog, while unpacking the stage. Our biase, our presupposition, our belief, he continued. Its a story, add a pinch of salt at will. You can not see my harness, am I at my own will? with a concerned look on his face, while he sets two of his characters on the stage. These were not elaborate, those puppets, yet distinguishable, a male and a female. …
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A Letter to Muse
Sunday, April 5, 2020
Dear Muse, Stuck in an endless loop of writing this letter and deleting it. Every time with a slightly different meaning, the goal? I am not clear on that. I simply can not get a grip on this untangled mess. Few of those letters had our differences listed, few emotionally charged, few aggressive, some more apologetic than others. That is not all, they even had profound shit like the utilitarian conclusion and stoic viewpoints. I am fragmenting things here, though this letter is about putting them back together. Life, me, everything is not perfect, nor I am expecting you to be. Hope there is some forgiveness left for me, and for my stupid puppets and their rhymes. In any case, I will be waiting here, behind this screen. …
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Chaos
Sunday, April 5, 2020
In the midst of chaos I reside, a distant observer to my own life. I am in a thought-created vessel, drifting this calm, endless sea. My oarsmen row in silence, their voices swallowed by the abyss. I stand expressionless at the bow, staring at the shimmering reflection of this starlit sky. Every time I close my eyes, whole worlds flicker past— deserts, mountains, lush green plains, life at its apex, all unseen in the waking hours. …