Sometimes feelings fail you of their meaning. I seldom feel so deep, so obscure. I was never stared at so diligently, so fervently…jealous to the other eyes, but I tried to pretend as I hadn’t seen anything at all. Happy, yet confused and conscious about the fact that some answers needed to be written on my answer script. But I held back my desire to look back.
I did quite well.
Next week my feelings sped away dangerously at perilous alleys, I talked nonsense to friends who never had ideas about my inner dialectical emotions. I seemed perfectly normal to them, while I was in another high, drooling over non-existent castles. I wrote poems, drew sketches of the soothing scent. I created life on paper with my creative yet scratchy pencil lines. I never felt so possessed before.
I never really got over the feeling. I would never want to either. I know its fate-less. But if that’s how feelings taste like then I am rather happy that it didn’t deceit me at all. I however don’t feel so much possessed now but the emotions continue. The jealous eyes still stare at us when I am looked at. I feel a bit hesitant, a bit defeated, a bit outdone by those precious little ogles. I don’t mind that at all.
I have not shared this with anyone, and I now feel I should write about it. It’s not cheap, not a fetish neither an obsession. But I will hold these feelings close to my heart, and you might see me smiling all by myself with my eyes tight shut, and correctly guess the reason for the happiness.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
Brilliantly composed. A sharp sense of maturity, my friend you're growing up!
hmmm...nyc...u seem to b vry drunk wid a sweet 'n' bitter feelin...
i am good re...just a hangover... trying ma best to walk properly!
Post a Comment