I wanted to talk about a self destructive friend. High on chemicals he had some soul wrenching songs to share. I don’t want it to be last. I don’t want the voice of Kurt cobain ringing in my ear how low for rest of my moments. But who knew I had forgotten too that I barely have moments for myself as well.
Anyway, I wanted talk about the friend of mine. And I waited for the talk. Earplugs on “from yesterday to attack”
I waited.
The clatter faces made more sound than my headphones in highest volume. So much noises in wondering eyes, different shape of teeth from different skulls still living. Different smiles and words and their hands moved. As his hands moved, for whom I waited. His continuous clatter of words might help and his bonding with his fellow friend over cigarettes. But how much can words do if it doesn’t mean anything?
I don’t remember when I started shivering and forgetting things, my lighter, my IPhone charger, cigarette filters, handkerchief, lunchbox, I don’t remember how much I remember. It doesn’t matter anyway the contiguous disease, my happy suicidal tumor had grown already. What would I have talked about? This vacant body is wasting enough oxygen might help save a fish blue and tiny but it will save one. For the future. Or this toxic brain is desperately trying to make point so pointless doesn’t matter to the world?
But it helped. Clattering words from a moment I was fighting my own demons from a different space and from different atoms it helped like the headphones loud on “a modern myth to a beautiful lie”. I am afraid. And I will let this go without any questions. I don’t wanna know how he was in my head saving me. I don’t wanna know if just coincidences. Let it make noise.
But it helped. Clattering words from a cups and saucers.
I think I will survive another day. Or I have survived long enough.
– the next song will decide when shall rest.
Brotipriya 