Sunday 28 May 2017

Emotional Release with Material Possessions and Stalking Obsessions

With age, tension piles up and up. At the same time, relief-options available to the autonomous adult also increases. If once upon a time the helplessly frustrated child could only bawl and roll on the cold floor, then now, as an adult, it could have a Caraoke session while cruising down the empty highway at 1AM. The few cars that speed alongside my accelerating case of loneliness, are they out here with no direction as well? Ah, if only they are also trying to abandon their ghosts in the wind. Do I really want to know? But the number of individuals who live in isolation here, a city where self-inflicted loneliness is the only known companionship, is much greater than we think.

What song was it? Where have I heard it? That every passing car-- I search for you in every passing car. Fabrication plays an integral role in attraction and it is my version of you that I am obsessed with, not your real self, whoever you are. Silly, isn't it? To be in love with nothing but an image, not even a reflection. Yet this empty obsession is capable of stirring the waters that just wish to stay as still as the glass surface of an unmoving lake.

I say I drive with no direction but the compass that is my heart steers us to you, and this aimless journey to soothe a troubled mind was without a doubt taken to clear my head of you, only you.

How do you get rid of something that doesn't exist? I can't just throw you away because you're intangible. Even in my head, you are the shadow of a fog that encircles my wreath of spring blossoms. Your un-existence, the uncertainty born out of it, is the poison that is killing this Scorpio. To yearn for the companionship of another scorpion is to wish for a duel until one of us is utterly broken. Profound understanding comes with a price that is not worth exposing our flesh for.

As I leave you behind after going round and round in circles on sleeping streets, I think, I have come to terms with the Sandman that wishes to bury your fading fabrication in a flurry of dreams that promises a tomorrow you can never bring.


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