can’t breathe…this is me…got an ample amount of air within me yet it is the very thing that restricts me from freely breathing…it is my right to breathe. but i am my own devil..fucking devil…this feeling was a long time coming. and so here i am, in this skin, that i knew i would adopt..but i’m not proud of it…

fucking wanted to block this…really wanted to….i wanted to burn time and age in their collision course with pride and glory..but i ace at working against myself…
and the air, it accumulates within me…fills in the cavities, the blood vessels, the veins…the brain….
it pushes outwards challenging me to resist…expecting me to explode…..a fiend…
why couldn’t it be at least an element of my choice….something less abstract than air…something more tangible…that i could fight…
i’ll fight it..but fail…’cause that’s what i do..
i make utterances with such determination but the coagulation from thoughts and words to actions never occurs…and even when it does the transformation would not be solid enough to be anything but a failed attempt.
and the air, it pushes amount of exhalation will suffice…it pushes out the blood…and when i’ve been drained..the next is going to be the tissue beneath my tissue, followed by our sins…yours and mine, they’ve been intertwined…
i admire my own honesty and watch myself suffer..and the conniving air, my fiend has learnt how to resist escape..
what’s more…despite the pressure, i won’t explode….i’ll drive the blood back in and fight….but it will be the same story…
the same story of how i fought weakly…obtained momentary victory…and then the enemy will return stronger than the last time…time and time again to rise and create fear…and then subside to create confidence…and the cycle goes on…till it learns my weaknesses and few strengths and finally it will completely succeed to engulf me… drained of blood…
read on…
life’s not supposed to be a struggle…no one chooses to be born…and so to begin with, our lives start off as a challenge..but for what??why are we born into this? perhaps that’s why they have their god or gods, their heavens and hells. not being given a choice to be brought into what was already here…the heavens and hells of their mothers and fathers and ancestors.. who also did not have a choice…
and we trace our footsteps backwards…darwin thought he had the answers…we did not have a choice but the one’s before us made choices so that we who followed would be better off than them, perhaps. and it’s not very different from the passing down of laws, the advice, the news, the history of your religious families.
and everyone wants an explanation..everyone hopes for one….and we all join the earth in its cyclical a trance, we all join the earth in its cyclical dance..and your religion gives you the hope that the lack of choice you were born with , and the abundance of choice you will live with, will all be worth it. it all has a purpose.
for us the godless, or for us, who think that godliness and godlessness doesn’t matter either way…we’re just like you…with hopes and dreams too..just like you…to keep us going, moving, creating and destructing purposes…we are all just like you…going in circles..cycles…
and i crave for another word to describe this process but no other 2 words seem more apt,…cycle…circle…i have repeated them time and time again…and here it is again…the air, to create a scare…this time, another league stronger…like having an extra 1000 footman than your enemy, during war.
blood fights the air
i’ll win or lose
i expect the world to collapse at any moment, ’cause the possible pointlessness and purposelessness of this all makes me turn towards a noose…for hope…up or down…where will i go?..

2 thoughts on “air

  1. Interesting read. Writers should never have a job. Else they would not be writers. They’d be called readers. Exactly what i am now. Haven’t written in a while.

  2. not true..depends from person to person… don’t kill the drive to write unless you let it die in pursuit of profits and things like that…which is in your control…it’s great to have a job doing something you love…you probably haven’t written because i just need some inspiration….or you just to need to break that something that’s caused a mental/verbal blockage

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