The Vacuum in the Emptiness

The vacuum in the emptiness of the lonely lanes that I am walking through, hit me harder than anything solid. The voice of the silence louder, harsher in my ears than anything else ever. I wonder... what is it that I am trying to feel, to listen... or maybe trying not to feel and not to listen ?

The vacuum in the emptiness is a strange thing to feel. As I keep on walking, I feel the vacuum dissolving into a solid mass of strange shades of gray... hitting me hard on my face. I realise how alone I am. I realise how the crowd that surrounds me means nothing to me, I realise that I mean nothing to them either. Its just me against myself... fighting the solid gray cloud of vacuum closing in on me. But it seems I am losing, the cloud keeps getting thicker... closer... I am losing sight of all thats around me...

I am in a damp mist of gray smoke all around me. Its weightless.. it has not the physical properties of matter.. its vacuum. But still its heavy, it weighs down my heart, my eyes, my ears... all my senses are getting enslaved to it. I can see nothing beyond the mist... its all dense and heavy and light and weightless... I feel like I am flying with my feet anchored to the ground. The mist gets denser... stronger... so solid that I can move not anymore. I am suspended in mid vacuum, something wieghing me down, something holding me up. I feel like I want to implode and explode at the same time. I feel... the vacuum in the emptiness.

The mist has begun to roll... rolling into shapes... definitely alive but not human. The voice of the silence has begun to groan in my ears. The floor of mist beneath me begins to fade, but I dont fall.. I can see a boy bundled up below me. The ceiling of the mist fades too... but its a cloudy night, I can barely make out the moon. The mist is no more a mist now. Its a circle of shapes, definitely alive but not human shapes, surrounding me. I try to talk to them, but I cant articulate, I utter no sound. I just keep listening to the voice of the silence. I stop all attempts to articulate or gesticulate, I just concentrate on the shapes and the voice.

They are trying to tell me something... perhaps. The voice of the silence grows into my own voice. I have all the answers in the world... I listen to my own voice... But the boy huddled up over there, below me... pulls me back.. calls me back. I tear through the vacuum in the emptiness, shut out all the voices except that of people rushing right through me...

I am sweating profusely, my breathing is heavy, woice alien... but I know the answers... THE ANSWERS are all here... right here.

An account of I meeting Me.

At times when loneliness covers the horizon, and beyond, I step out of myself and meet Me. I see a boy, withering away with the worry that people hate him, or may be just dont like him enough... I see a boy thinking... deep in his heart craddling the perpetual desire to be loved by all, I see this boy who prepares himself for the unknown, the unobvious and the unexpected, but simply neglects that what is known, obvious and expected.

I try to delve deeper into him, but he has clouded the depths of his heart with voluminous smoke that hangs heavy. He has pushed his mind to where it is surrounded by glass lenses, which magnify the gigantic and shrivel the diminutive. He has bounded his senses in a kaleidoscope of illusions. He is perplexed to the extent of having to wonder who he his and what is he making of himself...

I try to talk to him, but he is too pensive to even notice. I wait, patiently... someday he will listen, and then I will tell him all that he needs to know. I have all the answers, I am his panacea.

But then, how long do I have to wait. Why doesn't he listen... why does he shun his own voice... when will I talk to Me ?

The night when I died...

Every night, we go to sleep, never knowing what we might wake up to. The silver moon that washes down my face and the liquid air that flows in my hair... none of it can help me in my conjecture about what the next morning would be like, would it be a red sun in a blue sky with white clouds and colorless silhouettes of early-morning prayers rising from the earth to the kingdom of gods, or would I wake up to a sun-less sky on a lifeless earth, or would it even be earth that I wake up on ?

At this point of time, sitting alone on a cold steel-bench, that is stealing the warmth off my body, I am letting my soul go free and wander in the depths and heights of imagination. From here, behind a gray cloud, I can see a psychedelic blend of colors... the colors of envy, pride, anger... enveloping the realm of human life... and I can see the black veil of death closing in... am I dead ?

I am floating now, the nothingness of space engulfing me, devouring me slowly, taking me into its folds, making me feel cold and warm and dark and bright and heavy and light and I dont know what, something that I know but I cant define, something that I do not know but can understand... something that I have never experienced, something that is so familiar... human-nature ?

Well, I guess so, I am inside someone else. Its misty in here, a wide spectrum of multiple colors and thick fog. Through the mist I can discern a silhoutte, sitting upright and looking into something, his hands steady, fingers moving fast. Then things go hazy, there is red and then there is green and then a flash of white and then blue and finally its all black and dark... and I am thrown out with a force enough to shatter mountains to dust.

What was it ?

My Definition of Life...

Sun and Rain and Smiles and Pain,
Nights and Days and Gloom and Glaze,
Quill of Feather and Edge of Knife,
Yes, my freinds, That is Life.

Pretty lame eh ? But well thats about it.

Its just the beginning, keep checking in and loads more will come through, I hope I shall be able to justify the title of my blog.