The Creatively Frustrated

It might sound strange to you but I imagine people as play dough’s. Impressionable. Everyone leaves a mark; some deep, some leave behind just their fingerprints, curving and looping, touching your soul just enough. And with every touch the dough alters it shape, adjusting, changing and shifting. We've all had our ups and downs. We've all experienced heart ache and limitless joy. All of it being the result of someone or something that interacted with us at some point in time. I ask you just one question. Had you been where you are right now, without that tragedy that makes you weep at night? Or without that accomplishment that compels you to hold your head high? You may not be at peace with yourself now, but we have this uncanny ability of ‘Acceptance’. Yes, accepting that what has happened; happened to make you who you are. Sculpting your very thoughts, making you, YOU.  I am nearing the end of one chapter and turning over a new page of my life. It’s akin to com...

Booked history. Meant to learn from ? You DO realise that you always end up on the wrong front. Redeemed faith, love. Falter again. You're fucked up. Dont feel bad. Its just you. Dang. How. I ask, what number will you test ? Yeah, just step on them. Have a damn fest. Your levels have dropped to unseen depths, How'd you be sought ? Death. So, just sketch on the dirt beneath you. You dont give a damn, like you'd feel bad if it cheats you. Wild smile. All your masks lay in front. Pick one ? Clown another. Soulless mortals, almost inaudible. Heh. Blame ! It cannot be you. Wild smile. Hysteria ? Bleed it out. So. You count rocks around. Yeah, fiddle with them. They are diamonds, you fool. Not a crap mound. Cry it out again. Its not like things would ever differ. The mirror people would over power you. Suffer. Laugh out loud. Laugh it out. Press hard. Clenched fist, open it. Fine, untampered dirt. Bowed head. Sway away. Maaz Tanveer.

It’s funny how we don’t look like us upside down. I saw a friend’s picture on facebook and that is what I thought and all the other times I lay down and look at my friends from that angle. We look like a different us. And the other day when it rained and I went out to look for objects to photograph, I saw a flower that fell in an upturned way. With the pretty side down and the stem projecting in the air, standing tall. And I stared at how unusual it looked. Not like itself. Different, you know? Weird how life is making me look at things upside down when I want to straighten it out so bad. Then my friend goes on and says. I look like me, backways, sideways, upside down, downside up and everything. She emphasized on the ME. And I give it a moment and think, that’s right. We do look different, but its still us. But didn’t I already say that? A different us..

Sanity marches, out of the secure confines. Decides to flee, like a freed bee Weary of the webs, it keeps on twisting the threads Peeks through the tiny holes, as the time rolls She glances within, her fingers are gripping Disintegrated. She thinks to herself, The bits and pieces, Explosions inside, deafening sounds are muted outside. Stunned. Eyes the insanity and grunts. I bet you want to dethrone, I bet with all my bones Battles the exteriors, leans towards the wreck Lost are the words, and screams, muted again. The bits and pieces, awed. A contact with the dust relives the dismay Gathers the fragments, to search for the fits Tries to assemble, make sense out of the zilch. Blurred is the periphery, the focus perpetual Alas! The bits and pieces. No way.

To be on another level of understanding self, is like a whole new world requiring an era of exploration. Its like seeing a spectrum of light that wasn't visible before, that isn't visible to anyone else. It demands a certain amount of isolation. And sometimes that loneliness suffocates you. Its tempting to run back to the old you, a lesser being that was on common ground with everyones else. Doesn't sympathy sound soothing to the spirit? But change evolves you, its as unavoidable as breathing. Losses occur on both sides naturally, but the gains are the keep sakes. Although, it depends entirely on you; whether you let it consume you or let it make you stronger.

Freeze. A second, a moment, A memory, a glimpse. An experience, exquisite, A feeling, undefined. Ecstasy to the fullest, An almost nirvana. Freeze it wont you? A moment in time, Before abandoned, forgotten. Its but only desired, For a lifetime.

Crossing, or reluctantly moving perhaps. With little or no reason. With utterly disgruntled mood from lost faith and those useless familiar faces. You look up with some intent, with some self belief that what your eyes might see, maybe, just maybe shed some light to where this is leading to. A rope bridge. The narrowest and precarious pathway. Where hope falls like a meteor, ignites with sudden flashes. You cant help but chuckle, after that intended look up. Mist, shrouded clouds of a lost cause, desperation and fucking sighs. And you just have to wonder, about that justice that was said to be, but never heard of. Justice, equality, court of law ?! Heh. There's just a friggin pathway, which itself is dented with desperation and denial. And THEY talk about justice ? You lower your knees for a bit, letting them feel the crooked boards. Some comfort ? And, you try to look behind. Possibly the most disgraceful and an act of sheer dumbness ! Feeling the end level of you frustrati...

I walk On a thin metallic needle Behind a plastic seal Beginnings are usually deceptive Wider bases cleverly deceive Towards fine tapering ends, They lead? Mislead. Exploiting my needs Hopeful susceptibility The love for light A little respite Also cheats Consoling myself A dark patch maybe I cement my belief But a distant voice Faintly speaks The needle is painted black Can't you see That you can't? Even if I could I retaliate Your scratched glass This so-called protective shield Would have obscured my vision Curtailed my inherent abilities Perfectly planned Painted black A tapering end I obediently walk Locked The metal erodes Facilitating the final fall Tick tock Tick tock