Sometimes I'm swirling, uncontrolled and broken fragments. A tide of anger and jealousy and bitterness that swallows everything in red. Irrational and unbendable and undeniable raging and hurt, swirling. At times like that, I'm cold and hot, burning and freezing and mixing in my thoughts. Swirling.
Sometimes I'm still, mirror silence and liquid stone, silky and slipping out. Blocking out thoughts and ideas and things they told, frozen in time and the cold. I'm silent and waiting and watching for the moment to strike and to thaw. Still. Like slow moving glaciers and the seemingly far moon, I stand. Still.
And sometimes I'm taunting, laughing and smug with a smile. Understanding and in control, a puppetmaster with his strings, a magician with a thousand tricks. Knowing and wise and witty with ties, I'm taunting. Waiting for your move on the board, knowing where the pawn will move toward. In the king's throne, watching your deck fold. I'm in control, in the light of God. I'm smirking. Taunting.
At times I feel nostalgic, looking past on timelines and wondering where I went wrong. Asking and learning and feeling sad about my loss. Philosophising about my past, nostalgic. Like old worn sneakers and diaries never filled, mysteries remain trapped. Like dust piling up and that sad-eyed stare. Nostalgic.
And there are moments of fire, burning and consuming, gold and red and yellow. Not controlled or held back, hurting anyone who's around. Tantrums and shattered glass, anger and misunderstood threats. Fiery. And it burns not only you but me, it hurts but it rides high, like a fatal drug you still take. Killing everything, withering and destroying. Fire.
But there is a worse feeling than anger, and it's happiness. It's more of a drug than anything else, addicting and tempting. Your flushed smile and giddy laugh and you forget it while it whirls around you and you're high. In heaven, in the sky, happiness. And it's addicting to forget and to fly and to rise and go. Euphoric and dazzling, a nightmare in a daydream. Happiness.
And you forgive. And you never forget. But it piles up. And happiness brings it down, but trash ain't ever gone like that. Till then, I'm still swirling.
YOU ARE READING
Thinking About Random Stuff
عشوائيI just want to write. It's a mess. I like writing. Poetry I guess, who really knows what monster I've created. Deep thoughts and sometimes me trolling myself. Fun.
