Remember gravity?
The counter question came as a respite to the guilt of the chilled beer bottle that found its way to the ground at the precise moment when it was needed most by the battalion of restless cells, all rushing hither tither in her body. All through the day she longed for a long drag of a cigarette and a quick swig of a whiskey shot. All through the dreadful day. Mechanically she cleared the mess and changed into her comfortable night wear and prepared to wake up late. There would be no alarm, no timed bath and breakfast, no ensuing work halves.
The next day would mark the beginning of a series of similar days. She had had this earlier. An overhauling lethargy guiding the morning to afternoons and onwards to a night which had no interesting evening. To another day. Some petty money making, some deep day dreaming, absolutely no ambition chasing and tirelessly lazing. She had seasons of the same wallpaper peeling into other wallpapers of clawing ideas and biting abstraction -- deconstructed pebbles on puzzling puddles, bare branches seated on neon clouds, and rivers shone in electric starshine -- till she woke up with the disturbing shudder of an ugly disturbance called a never-ending now. She dreaded tomorrow. Then.
Remember?
She gave up her timed today yet again and dreaded her tomorrow. Till she remembered that it was a thing of the then. She was armed with a dialogue with the walls this time. Ready to look into the abstraction right in the eye, and rip apart any disturbing shudder that would dare to. She longed for a beer, it was a breezy evening. There wasn't any in stock. The wardrobe was arranged just a couple of days back, and the dusting done. She was going mad, mechanically mad.
The lethargy would give away to a promise towards fitness, the day dreaming to weaving thoughts, the never-ending nows to an infinite nebulous structure. Would. It began all over again.
It was beautiful, her madness. This time.
The counter question came as a respite to the guilt of the chilled beer bottle that found its way to the ground at the precise moment when it was needed most by the battalion of restless cells, all rushing hither tither in her body. All through the day she longed for a long drag of a cigarette and a quick swig of a whiskey shot. All through the dreadful day. Mechanically she cleared the mess and changed into her comfortable night wear and prepared to wake up late. There would be no alarm, no timed bath and breakfast, no ensuing work halves.
The next day would mark the beginning of a series of similar days. She had had this earlier. An overhauling lethargy guiding the morning to afternoons and onwards to a night which had no interesting evening. To another day. Some petty money making, some deep day dreaming, absolutely no ambition chasing and tirelessly lazing. She had seasons of the same wallpaper peeling into other wallpapers of clawing ideas and biting abstraction -- deconstructed pebbles on puzzling puddles, bare branches seated on neon clouds, and rivers shone in electric starshine -- till she woke up with the disturbing shudder of an ugly disturbance called a never-ending now. She dreaded tomorrow. Then.
Remember?
She gave up her timed today yet again and dreaded her tomorrow. Till she remembered that it was a thing of the then. She was armed with a dialogue with the walls this time. Ready to look into the abstraction right in the eye, and rip apart any disturbing shudder that would dare to. She longed for a beer, it was a breezy evening. There wasn't any in stock. The wardrobe was arranged just a couple of days back, and the dusting done. She was going mad, mechanically mad.
The lethargy would give away to a promise towards fitness, the day dreaming to weaving thoughts, the never-ending nows to an infinite nebulous structure. Would. It began all over again.
It was beautiful, her madness. This time.
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