There's a girl in New York who visits the pub every single night when the clock strikes 12 and the lights of the houses go dim with each passing stroke. She quietly walks the stone streets of the city that never sleeps sipping in the cold breeze like whiskey.
The pub is lively filled with people whose eyes shower amorously at her but she is oblivious of their approach. She only stares blankly at the bubbles in her wine glass thinking how strange every night greets her with the same drudgy feeling and how each night she drinks to let her madness simmer away with each gulp. With Charles Bukowski and Virginia woolf in her hand she reads then out in her mind reciting the mesmerising words of them poets. No one sees her no one notices her, no one bothers to converse and yet she is in utter Solace and comfort with solitude around her.
Shortly after having finished her drinks she walks out of the pub taking an umbrella event hough it's not raining outside. Nd everytime she opens it a slow drizzle starts to fall like a steady metronone.
I have always wondered what is she scared, she says that she's scared of Happiness because everytime she gets happy something terrible happens the next moment nd it's all gone, dissipated in the mists and rain. The city has given her a disturbed joy in the midst of all this crowd and people buzzing words she never fathomed and yet how she wished to break away from all this and dissappear probably in one of the pages of C. S Lewis book or into one her own fantasies and daydreams.
*"sometimes life is about rain and sometimes about the hardships we go through"
Inspired from @swapna sagar
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Songs in Desolation
Poetry" If chaos is a work of art then my heart is a masterpiece" In times of great loneliness i write and draw at times of misery they turn into rythmic syllables and songs I can never understand. This is me, who i really am. Some write ups and poems fr...
