Something to Live For!

Have you ever felt like ending everything that has come to existence, everything that is alive and breathing, even the things that are dead only that in your head they have a life. Have you felt like crushing down that brick holding the building from falling and watch that building scowl and feel pain when it comes down because you have destroyed it’s only link to existence.

You feel a sense of belonging when you stand in the ruins of something you have destroyed, you have been there when her heart was heaving with her dying breaths, you can see the air inside her fighting to come out and crawl its way to you and perhaps ask you the only important question it has to ask- Why? Why do you smile, even when you know that it is all about to end for you? If it only had eyes you could see the agony of having survived this long and the sheer pleasure of having been finally relieved and the curiosity about the madness it sees in your eyes.

You feel light, you start rising up and the ruin below fades into a old photograph, hanging in an unrest in the gallery of gloom. And then when you think it’s going to end, and you will finally be at peace, you are pulled back down by the rope of memories tangled in your feet, and as you come down you are reminded of the life you were meant to live; the exact thing that you wanted to run away from, the very thing you would have thrown in a pit, poured gasoline upon and finally ignited a spark and dropped it in that pit and watch the flames creep up, watch them rise above you and take the shape of a monster dying in the agony of not having fulfilled its destiny, and you would have smiled.

I often wonder if I’m suicidal, I wonder if my brain has unhinged himself and have become a being capable of having his own separate thoughts, thoughts that he would not share with me, oh no! he doesn’t ignore me outright, he asks me questions about a certain purpose of my existence and sends me to chase which I don’t think I will return from, but in my heart, I know I want to, if only, I could fight my demons and perhaps share a glass of wine with them on merry table and force them to let me be, and create something I’d love, something I’d live for, something for once I would never destroy.