Failure, The Creator

Success once asked failure ‘I give a man everything he wants – fame, money, a good life, high esteem in society. what do you give? nothing but pain,misery and sorrow.’

Failure replied – ‘I give those men a road full of stones, pebbles and potholes to walk on. they bleed, scream and curse their fortunes. I am their worst nightmare. I crush all hope. I’m a monster. It’s true. but know that without my existence, their life would be hollow. Without me, there would be no you. I am the creator.’

The Ship That Sailed Far Too North

My life has always been a kind of oxymoron.

A walking contradiction.

Mirror inversion.

 

I have seen rejection.

I have felt the sound of collapsing waves.

 

take control of wandering minds.

before I took it apart.

 

The crash is inevitable.

when you swim in murky waters.

 

you knew it all along, didn’t you?

It was.

 

It wasn’t meant to be.

you were stranded.

 

but you watched it fade.

day after day.

 

you ask why.

that ship’s already sailed.

 

they said.

with a fret and a shrug.

 

times change and so do I.

 

What’s to kill is to buy.

 

you prick and you pry

 

but we did try.

 

you and I.

 

We never.

 

Fly.

 

past differences.

 

motive and ego.

 

A disturbing childish game.

 

who is it to blame?

 

is it me, is it you?

 

is it the sky, so violently blue?

 

what sets us apart?

the paths we pursue.

 

the method and the madness.

intertwining.

Question and Clue.

 

I ask the whistling breeze.

it replies in whispers and codes.

 

The only path, after all.

is the road that stretches ahead.

 

No more sea, no more to see.

what is to be, will be.

 

My world explodes, and all that was is far past damaged.

I walk.

Surreal Captivity

I sit and I wait.

And it seems like an eternity for her to come.

The dawn of a new idea never echoed before in the universe.

Maybe, a brand new pill.

Manufactured and Digested in the system.

I eat and get bitter. It makes me so much more content.

Like self-consummation, only more dangerous.

More real, it seems.

But what can I say about, what needs to be or rather, what is?

It is within these thoughts, these fractals and patterns.

That I lose the plot somewhere.

I remember how easy it was.

To break a wall, and make a new one.

Now it just gets tougher and tougher with every fleeting moment.

It towers through, engorging all that lies ahead of it.

And as I get infinitely smaller, it is only much bigger.

Oh, what a monotony has set in.

There are no new ideas.

Only cheap manufactured clones of what once was.

Oh, such tragedy.

This existence.

It is but a true form of what lies within and about.

It is much more dangerous and alive.

Cannibalism, it is at the heart of the beginning of everything.

How else do you rationalize all that grows and all that dies.

All that withers and all that blooms.

It is all just a cycle.

Inversion of variables.

Black. White. Cyan. Magenta. Yin. Yang.

Rational Numbers. Irrational.

And yet hopelessly lost within the chaos, there is a need to go back.

The need to just be.

Everything so vicariously opposite to each other, its just eats up.

All that was, all that is. all that will be.

Such revelations only destroy.

And they plant seeds yet unknown.

I do not know what lies ahead of me.

Only an infinitely long cycle of time.

It repeats itself after every cycle.

And that is truly what lies at the bottom of this arrest.

This hopelessness.

This need to destroy. To be Destroyed.

And it all amounts to Nil.

The universe, it cancels itself.

The secret window in my mind, it tells me all I need to know.

but what I want, I will never know.

Dimensionless.