glass house..

Have you ever lived in a glass house?
I do. Its cubical and is devoid of doors and windows. You can see everything from here. The calm forest outside with the trees standing guard, preserving and inspiring. I am sure there is life in the forest, though I have never seen evidence of any. I somehow felt it.

Its not easy to feel things from inside such a glass chamber. The walls are cold to the touch. They however grow warm on persistence. It’s a spectacular view though. You can see everything. You just need to notice carefully.

I had roamed in the forest once. It was very misty. The fog was like a black hole sucking in the beams of the sun and glowing like white monsters of smoke. They seemed friendly though, like giant elephants. I had walked through them. It didn’t mean much to me then. I had always loved walking. The forest that seems so mysterious now seemed so simple then. You could just walk and keeping walking. However you did have to look over your shoulder at times to make sure you weren’t lost.

Occasionally one can hear various other forms of life emitting strange sounds. Sounds that may or may not qualify as music. But then that does not matter, since being qualified as music involves the influence of a larger set of variables on the mind.



I still travel. I wander off into the forest. I glide through the hazy blue into oceans of spectral colours (sunlight through a dilated pupil perhaps!!) where I nest in my dreams. These dreams often unfulfilled yet natural. They are not products of a forced homogeneity.
Rather they are the types yielded by unharnessed and freely traveling mindscapes.

I am thankful. I am no prisoner. I am glad.




The mist has lifted somewhat now. I can see far through the glass. It is so silent in here. I do not know if it’s the same outside in the forest. I imagine it is.

moment

one of the more depressin feelings is when i stare at the white sheet n nothin comes forth. the mind's blank as the sheet i set forth to fill up. its not often that i have nothin to say. i think, a lot comes floodin in "a flash of inspiration" as one says. but now i find myself stranded devoid of words n thoughts, far from an idea.
im listenin to music now. not the stuff i really like. but then i dnt know wat i really like. it seems i often go with the flow. like i need some distraction from life. just to look the other way. just a moment, to find nothing but the absence of everything else.
im feeling kinda messed now. very messed. im not really sure why. i feel this way quite often. atleast used to. but i never typed while feelin this way. so this shud be fun, eh! i dunno...it started with me bein slowly rocked, as if in a cradle by kenny g's sax. n now its soarin, the sound, its higher than ever....n there's sinkin in me. im quite outta breath as i type...i let go...breathe out...there..im still low. im hit. i dnt know.. the music's still on. my mind's off the screen n im makin typos...im thinkin of somethin i dnt want to. ive always tried not to. i dusnt matter wat it is. its just that sometimes...rite now...i wish things were different. not really. im happy...but i just wish, for a while life was diff, just so i can know wat its like.just so...

(there ive corrected the typos i cud find...there cud be more though)

i spoke to a friend today. he's far off in another continent. there was somethin he was hidin. ive often spoken that way to ppl. infact i do it all the time. mostly wit ppl i care about. im scared. man rite now u shud see me...im a fuckin pussy sittin here infront of the comp. im "wallowin in self pity" as one of my acquaintances wud say. i cant believe im ashamed of myself. i am. i dunno of wat. maybe...ive failed to live upto my vision of myself. maybe im not the way i want to be abt certain things...maybe im still vulnerable. i cant let go...let go of anythin..in never cud. not of ppl, not of my own walls. im not a prisoner. im however hidin. n im too scared to find out wat im hidin from.
but im desperate now. i dnt want to be lost anymore man...i cant lose anymore...not that i ever have, some wud say. but still...im confused. there are wounds, wounds that dnt seem to heal. but i cant see them, n i never share them. i try to be invincible. im gettin good at it. i often hurt than get hurt. no one can tuch me. i feel like a fuckin coward doin this. i never let anyone close. thats coz im paranoid...n im on the run. n nothin ever happens to me, i always escape.
no one can touch me...