Beginnings are all I remember these days, the rest of the days, the books, the movies the conversations seem to just speed by as if happening in the background, like a song that you have to bear with when it's the only one tolerable amongst all the other noisy ad stations on radio.
The foreground of the bowl of my thoughts is filled with vapours swirling in loud and gaudy colours, all vying for the sole attention and none getting any more than what has already been rationed out..by what methodology I'm not precisely sure.
Amongst all this, the intense disorientation that surrounds me is the most avidly felt sensation and even that does not get any active response..i.e. nothing that helps in making an action.
Surprisingly my most persistent feelings of guilt and confusion too take a backseat and with them my ability to contact and get in touch with an analytical mind.
In perennial twilight are my thoughts,
In a state of flux are my doings,
In darkness is the world around me,
Inept and unable to inform myself,
I am...
But I?
Aspiring for an absolute, unaware of what it is.
Ambling in the ambience of lukewarm intentions..
Altering notions and adjusting values...
Aftermaths of adulthood or preparing for the return of innocence?
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