For a week now, nostalgia is hitting me, hitting me real hard.

At night, I close my eyes and try to sleep after a long tiring workout in gym but all i could feel is to be there, where the hurt is.

Sitting on the floor, on the same floor with square, old, ruff surfaced tiles, near an old woman, with her hand softly stroking my hairs. getting pampered like a 2 year old kid, with a sweet smell of her wrinkled, almost dead skin. Nothings there in this whole universe like sitting near her and feel the warmth of her loving touch. And I mean it, theres absolutely nothing like that.

From the kitchen, that same old familiar voice of an aging lady, asking me to bring bread and eggs for dinner. With me neglecting her each word. Never imagined, id miss the fragrance of the incense, she used for the evening prayers. Never thought id miss seeing her coming home at evening with two big plastic bags full of household things, a flower in her long beautiful hairs and a drop of a sweat on her forehead.

Deposited dust on the surface of the table, spider webs in the corner of the windows high up on the wall, hanging power cable behind the TV, two sheets of thermocol beneath the fish tank, piles of cluttered newspapers under the table, calendar clipped at the bottom to keep it from fluttering because of the eddied air blown by the brown ceiling fan, broken black speed regulator of that fan. Its all a part of me that I had to leave behind, but somehow, it still lives deep inside of me. deep down somewhere.

And I keep on trying real fucking hard not to think and feel and be there. But all that im left with is a tear drop to wipe. and I smile :-)

"You can be with somebody you like to be with

And just touch their cheek or hold their hand

And it's the most beautiful thing in the world

You don't need sex under LSD, because,

Because you're so satisfied with just holding hands,

That going for more than that isn't beautiful anymore."

(Not Beautiful Anymore from the album Up the Downstairs)

Porcupine Tree.

was just exploring the band's music. added all the songs of the album in the playlist, turned on the auto shutdown software and went to bed. Kept looking at the ceiling, thinking bout things and people. This lady from the song started to whisper. Couldn't stop smiling when she said "and just touch their cheeks and hold their hand". sweet!

Sunday 9th oct, Afternoon 1.24PM.

"Donno where im sitting. Some 4-5 kms away from my dorm room. Was feeling a little down n blue. so thought, lets fuck it up and go somewhere with bike, someplace ivent been to. cos you see ive experienced the chaos, when an empty mind meets a malfunctioning brain. and believe me its way too healthier and better to get engaged in some kinda stupid shit than to sit alone, think, smoke, fall into the deep dark abyss and get dumbfucked by the irony of reality and of our lives.

still the feeling of hollowness hasnt gone. anyway, so here i am, sitting on this wooden bench in a middle of nowhere. a jungle behind me with tall trees and no sound. but can somehow hear the sound of tyres scratching the road, running over 200kmph on one of the autobahns nearby. i wish i was in one of those cars going away, just for a while. its quite cold in here with this fast blowing wind but the beautiful thing is i can feel the october sunshine warming my numb fingertips. this is the first time, im loving the afternoon sun, really. but the wind is not as cold as my heart. i know im missing something. some friends. one fucker working on a computer some thousands of miles south-east and the other, must be chatting with his newly found love, some thousands of miles south-west from where im sitting.

i donno y, even though i know the pain, the ache and all the consequent fuck-ups, i keep on wanting it. i wish i could get rid of those fucking chemicals and hormones manipulating my straight and sober thoughts. i know the shitty feeling, i don wanna feel that again. "

well, this is where i went with my bycycle. sat there for an hour in warmth of the afternoon sun. felt really relieved. found this thing written on one of those last pages of my book. but shit, cant decipher now what exactly i was feeling, thinking and writing. hahha, im surprised how things change and how we forget what we felt immensely bad about and just move on with life. such a bitch.

Random looser's story 2

Been a month I'm here, dreamed a lot of crazy shit from an Iraqi voodoo witchcraft to the drowning sun. But then there was a dream, which felt like real. It was full of the emotions between a man and a woman. Maybe that is why I get high every single time I think about it.

"It was 2 o'clock in the midnight. We were standing in the balcony of her flat, some miles away from I don't know where. But I remember I could see a silhouette image of a castle over a top of the mountain far away towards the dark horizon. Moon was shining low and it was cold outside. The air was damped and so quiet that I could feel the heaviness of her breath. And what she was wearing was a loose maroon T shirt and a khaki shorts. Her hairs were let open and the blue hairband was resting around her left wrist. A sweet breeze passed away and a golden leaf crafted by autumn fell from a chestnut tree. It took a flight and followed a collapsed pendulum journey, as if it was confused which way to go, the way I always am. And finally settled down on a pebble, isolated. Her hairs were chasing the wind. I felt them for a second, swiftly caressing my neck. We were two and we were as quiet as each one of us sitting alone on a shoreline, pondering.

I hardly knew her, where did she come from, how she cries, how her laughter blossoms and how her smile fades away.

Then she looked me straight in the eyes. They were deep and were searching something inside of me. I was struck. It was a strange look filled with strange emotions. Something between the newly found love and the love she was deprived of. It felt like the coldest calm before the storm. I could sense the hurt she was carrying. We were still silent but had spoken our lives out with our eyes, one of the best conversations I had.

She led the way inside. Fragrance of the perfume she was wearing, was mesmerizing. Some music was playing.

I won't shiver in the cold

I won't let the shadows take their toll

I won't cover my head in the dark

And I won't forget you when we part

She turned off the lights, came closer, held my hand and put it on her waist. Fifteen past two, a girl with eyes as deep as the pacific, skin as soft as the wet sand and hairs as smooth as silk. And there I was, holding her close by, with her head on my chest."

I woke up with blurred eyes, vibrating thoughts and a spellbound heart. I had lost her, I had lost the most enchanting moments to come. Been a week now, I still wish we meet again; in dreams. I tried listening to those songs before sleeping, hoping to see myself in her arms, feeling the warmth of her body and soul. But as they say, every good thing has to end. Rather sometimes, we have to put an end to "some of those beautiful things" to keep ourselves away from insanity. Ive stopped thinking about the dream. Ive stopped thinking about her.

If only we had a chance to replace our one action in the past. If only we had a chance to change that little period of time and make a different decision. If only we can restore that broken piece of glass. The schrödinger's cat might had not died. It would have been totally different. But I'm so fucking far away from that point. And I have no chance to go back and change and make amends. It is the fact with which we have to live with, forever. What Ive turned into, is not the decisions I've taken in the receded time but its all about the decisions which I shouldn't have taken and the words, i should have avoided. but well this is life and if you plan to go to point B from point A, life always takes you somewhere else.. So far from B, alone, sometimes lonely, regretting.

but you see, sometimes i feel, whatever i chose, it was for good. No fucking regrets.

Peace.

Always the peace is slipping away, period.


Ive tried hard to run away but the hurt, it refrains to find a place in oblivion and the period remains missed and I run, never been able to find the period but I still run

"On the way to his school, he used to come across a mother n son duo. Dribbling saliva n ridiculous hexagonal shaped head of that child always intrigued him at the same time repelled him physically. He was a bright n sensitive kid who grew up wondering about the nature's discrimination.

He turned 18 n the other kid too, but he salivated only when a coveting girl passed by, n the other kid, who could never understand how a coveting girl, in fact how a girl pleases senses, always did.

The muted dreams n lost hopes of the mother, even though concealed behind a kind loving smile, could never fool his insightful eyes, which later at night, shed tears for that woman. He often argued with friends about the doomed future of that adult kid and the parents but secretly longed for their happiness, which he knew, was never attainable.

And like wind, time elapsed in experiencing love, homesickness, heartache and his own introvert life.

Until recently, he was coming back to life, sloughing off his negativity, he walked that street again, just to experience an undesired sight. A corpse wrapped in a white cloth with a ridiculously hexagonal head.

He came home, took a bath, looked in a mirror which reflected a face full of grief. Felt a mother's wails inside his heart, suffered cries of an already murdered life of her son, felt guilty of being normal. "

Been a long time since i havent felt down n blue, so kinda made up a story for myself to sensitize my gloom. I donno who is the protagonist, so I wrote HE, someone who lives inside.

nevermind the stops, commas n upside-down turned verbal sentences in the prose, was jus experimenting a different way to write.