My Mind is A Graveyard of Things

My mind is a graveyard of things.
I had them in the past.
I remember them even though I don’t want to.
Uncomfortable per second as it comes my way.

Have you looked at things and thought,
that this face could be things.
that a man is not the sum of his parts,
but different and living each second of his life differently.
I have not been able to shake this feeling,
since the Last time I was here in this wilderness.

I am done for the time.

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Beautiful Things

Beautiful things kill you.
Sometimes they are swift
And sometimes they take their sweet time.
But since we know
What we will find in the end,
We should like them with caution.
Take the snow for example,
The whiteness in front of you will seem pure,
And fluffy.
But once you taste its likeness to the raw edge,
You will run away from it,
Back to your grounds where spring stays forever.

Beautiful things despise the average things of world.
They do not know
That the world itself is average.
A pale reflection of what it was supposed to be.
It isn’t what we thought.
And it’s good because we have time.
I suppose we can make it whole
Before we give it to the ones
Who are next in line.
Thoughts are not beautiful
That’s why I have them.
It is noble that we should save the Earth.
I do not. We will not.

The Earth looks beautiful from space.
It should have beautiful things with it.
They should stay.
We are average folks and
This is the world we inherit.
We are meant to go.
Forever doesn’t mean being stubborn.
It means the beauty of moments shouldn’t stay.
We should go.
Now.

I am wide awake

I am wide awake
And the streets wear silence.
I do nothing but stare
At random things
And thoughts.

How often it was
When I told you
We should run away.
The world has got a short memory.
Everyone would have forgotten us.
As even I do not remember our love.
Was it fiction or fact?
I rack my brains to find the answer.
There is none.
It must have been a book
I read somewhere long ago.
Its figments are coming back.
What’s your name?

Sunday Talks

Mind has thoughts. They range from funny to ridiculous. When I get tired, I sit down and watch them. They grow and fight each other to gain prominence. There are so many of them, it never stops.

One such thought occured today. I wanted to cry, though I didn’t feel like crying. There wasn’t any reason. My belly was full, and I was lying down after talking with friends. The only absurdity was this sudden thought and it persisted.

I haven’t cried since, I don’t remember. I shed some tears after watching Hachiko, but it was more of an involuntary reaction. I rummaged through present affairs, to see if there’s anything worth crying about. Life isn’t fair, but it’s likable. Even the ghosts of past were living Sunday. So… I laughed. It was a good laugh.

The thought went away soon. But the absurdity is still here. I imagined myself as a preacher. One who tells folks that life isn’t fair and they should search their memory for funny things. Truth is, none would listen. Ergo, I laugh alone.

Running Out of Things

 

I always run out of things to write about.

It always happens. 
Then i look back at my life and try to envision what it would be like if all of my dreams were real.

I close my eyes and I fail to imagine it.

I am not able to find words. 

Mouth runs dry save for a cold breath.

If only I could tell you how it feels.

This exact feeling when I am hopeless with everything. 

When future isn’t a bright promise but a nightmare.

These cribs about an unjust and unfair existence.

Say mind is free and soul is forever young.

But mine is reduced to a failed imagination.

There are things I tried when I was desperate.

Mind me If I say I’ve lived the 24 hours of a single day inviting hope when I laboured on.

Hope came when I was down,

It lifted me into the high skies where I saw the Sun and felt its warmth on my skin.

It was all, a moment.

Hope is gone now and the Sun burns my skin.

I have forgotten the emotions I used to feel while crying.

Dry eyes ache but they do not conceal anything.

I am done with disappointments.

I have forgotten what they meant and how they affected me.

For all the care in this world,

None is for me.

Life isn’t roses and sunshine and it isn’t fair.

All I can say is that the thorns are picky about people.

Call it cynicism, pessimism or whichever word you deem right.

Doubts flicker as I know things.

There is no fight with the world.

It knows me well to spare me.

Plight is just a thing said to cover the big picture.

And this life that people so often speak about, 

They attribute words to deepen its significance.

Nothing is significant and none is worth saving.

Religion and money should be synonyms for life.

For everything said and done in this brief life of mine I have understood nothing.

I could feel love in my flesh and bones.

Only if it had something to do with my hunger.

I am hungry and this feeling is the worst there is.

I want to break out of this cycle but it is not allowed.

I must confine myself to these breaths and hopes.

Running away is not an option. 

The Girl with All the Gifts – New Teachings

There are a number of limited things one can include with zombie movies before they get boring. Sure, there are zombies hungry for humans and brains and ‘the humans will go extinct if a cure isn’t introduced’ drama. That’s true for every movie with zombies in it. Needed are exceptions to rule. Zombieland and Shaun of the dead were such exceptions.

Enter ‘The Girl with All the Gifts.’

The movie starts with a kid counting from one to thirty. There is little to tell, except obvious things from hush and push that it’s a military base with kids. The kids are strapped to chairs and they are assembled in what appears to be a classroom. The teacher makes them remember things from the periodic table. Many kids fail here. But Melanie. She’s intelligent. Following events happens where the base is overrun by zombies and a group of survivors manages to get out.

The gifts Melanie has, this movie explores them. Writing them would be like writing spoilers. I’d refrain. There is a certain innocence to the character of Melanie. Her primary instincts make her dangerous to others, but she’s kind to Miss Justineau. It’s shown when she, unsuccessfully, tries to refrain herself from attacking her. She knows trying is futile, but she tries anyway. 

The aerial shots of a ravaged human world, they are beautiful. Beautiful in a sense that the aesthetics of theirs have been withdrawn and overrun by vegetation. They are not a tool to move the story forward, but rather distractions. This movie doesn’t concern itself with the world and its saving. It has a group and it’s focused on how each person is different in it. Survival is paramount for everyone. They want to live. But there’s more to them, like Dr. Caldwell wanting to make a vaccine and Melanie trying to interact with the newfoud world.

I liked this movie. For it has something exceptional for the zombie movies. 

Wild Tales – Wild

Take a normal thing. Shake it. Upside down. Sideways. Shake it till you are content. Now, what you have is the same thing, but twisted. 

Wild Tales is an Argentine-Spanish movie. It has six tales. Each one in its own setting and characters. Mine favorite is Pasternak.

These tales are wild for sure. But for them to be wild, they follow a safe path that never makes them ridiculous, saving them from absurdness at the same time. They have passion driven characters, who just let themselves go. Contemplation takes a backseat and its pure passion. The separate tales are like thoughts of an person who often wonders with what would happen situations. The comic element is one which is left for the viewer to find. 

I liked this movie. I found it hilarious.