The Boy On The Balcony

There always stands a boy on the balcony
The neighborhood frows upon his nose runny

Averting their superficial fickle gaze away from him
There is no bestowed benevolence upon his sordid hymn

A mind and body they thought to be aligned in spirit and smoke
A perception they drew amongst themselves upon this misfit bloke

Is it a paranoia or is it disdainful belief
That forces this abandoned child to pursue relief?

Awaiting the arrival of his loving spared father
With the absence of his ever ignorant mother

A family that’s divided surely will not stand
All attachments erased, all previous emotions the boy canned

There is but a brother this boy cares for
Even though the child is lost in his own painful hour

In bright colors and hues the boy finds a constant
Fading in and out of his life so very reluctant

Friends amassed through masked smiles and laughs
Breathless the choking boy on the balcony coughs

But still hopeful and optimistic is the boy about his life ahead
To be able to live his days with no strife and no dread

For the rest of his life cared for by an imaginary friend
Abandoned and alone he knows his life will one day end

Multiple drunken stupors
Fuck your shit bloopers

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The Single Drink

As I sit alone at dusk and have my first
A black liquid to quench my life’s thirst

I recall an existence filled with nothing but misanthropic void
An incomprehensible scribe to my future husband or bride

Are you now going to get lynched for swinging both ways?
I seem to care eitherway, since existence is a hypocritical haze

Your sexuality has never mattered to my wayward mind for it’s a bore
A formidable intellectual companion is all I have craved for forever more

In a pure relentless pursuit towards a peaceful vision of all my lives
A constant step forward away from all your dripping distrust-laden knives

Dive deep into the first black-red drink of many
A calculative future strategy with dread, uncanny

Behind the first now parched awaits a secondance
Ready to soothe this shoulder of absolute dependence

A welcome calm over the languid flames of my distant detached heart and soul
An Armenian pianist now sings blissfully into the ears of this abandoned black foal

When forever is to be continuous somehow
Eternity is a long time away from until now

As I sit alone late night and down this cure worthy single drink
I teeter and cross the edge of an elusive Niravana’s brink

Tried and pre-tested acceptable methods of being a part
Now prove false under the guidance of your rotten cart

Are you really listening to me my dear loving God
Probably not, you pure imaginary friend of a fraud

I now seek to liberate myself from all your predictable grids
To down this drink and try my best to foresee my life’s skids

As I share bits and pieces from my life’s cup
I keep expecting one of you shits to stand up

Only to be left without any answer
Happiness seems to be life’s cancer

The pursuit of which constantly results in an ever-rain upon your farm
I already know you wish to be set free from all of experience’s harm

Always level with the precious offsprings that you have hurled
Else as misfits they shall wreck havoc upon this superficial world

Await for my shit allegorically misjudged perfect painting – Freely
I now have to leave because I hear the Moonwolf – Seemingly

What A Life

What a life it’s been
Inner conflict unseen

Someone who’s family once put my head between her legs for a fix
A sexual awakening, adulthood premature, innocence lost at age six

Soul trembling now all gone
Acceptance gained forlorn

Ignorant envy at times from beings encountered
A stonelike perseverance, I have never since faltered

Overrated sexless orgies most you beings partake, proudly civilized
I am but a being who’s a complete Dionysian, through rhymes refined

Until the day comes when I fully realize my now within reach dreams
I am destined to drift endlessly through weird unknown streams

Egomaniacal tits, balls, cunts and cocks of our piss-poor disdainful world
No longer triggered by this, into debauchery you’re all apathetically hurled

“Confront your fears and tears and live your true dreams” – Some late night distant voice whispered to me

A heart and soul firmly placed between dream and reality
Don’t you dare kiss my ass with your superficiality

What a life it’s been and what a life it’s maybe going to be
I’m fully aware of the shit you talk about the life lived by me

The fabric of life keeps tearing at it’s seams
I hold it all together with my childlike dreams

My causality, my quality, my divinity, my presence – all of them one of a kind
A recently attained inner peace within my ruptured mind will you now find

I now welcome you to my nonchalant scene
A misfit in your society, what a life it’s been

I now proclaim –
“Burn your socially acceptable masks”

Perpetually bored – Intellectually
Razel seeks me continuously

Fuck me – Gently, Metaphorically
Entertain me – With innocence, Blissfully

Negation Of Memories

Whether they be good or bad
Unwillingly driven cold and sad

These thoughts and memories
A misread book of insanities

Same old story, none will ever know
A heart with no summer, only snow

How does it feel to live with a fluctuating mind that’s worse than a chameleon jumping on the vibgyor colors of a rainbow?

Humour

Human beings smile or laugh to escape
From this forecfuly projected landscape

Humour is more often derived from someone else’s pain
A fleeting feeling craved for a selfish emotional gain

Caught in a twisted maze of delusions in a noise so deafening
So easy it is to deny the pain of someone else’s suffering

Humour me, go ahead and try your luck
And see for yourself if I truly give a fuck

Prozac Grin

https://www.instagram.com/p/BeTRNl6je7A/

When

When the still waters

Conspire against the tides

When the snow hustlers

Pause to see epic landslides

When an infinite universe

Rumbles it’s song two-pronged

When the polar converse

Undertakes a silence prolonged

True venture is chaotic

Infinite adventures erotic

A deathly communion orgasmic

Degeneration of the cytoplasmic

A frantic climb done over a dune

Witness a serene vision of Lune

Caught in a search for the elusive Light

The end of the tunnel approaches – Bright

An incredible find

Forever a subdued mind

A voice hoarse from shouting

A rebel seeing and screaming

Slaughter

In a war torn life

We’re all alone

Pain and sorrow

Is all we’ve ever known
So we grabbed a knife

To get it done

They promised us

That it’d be fun
Brother,sister

Mother,father

All of fucking life’s creator

They asked of us to slaughter
Slaughter!

Slaughter!

Slaughter!

Slaughter!
Why is it that we go to war?

Is a peaceful reality really so far?
We were asked to go with non-partial fists

To be devoid and feel nothing like nihilist

To break all our bonds and forget our pain

To wash ourselves in an endless bloodied rain
Brother,sister

Mother,father

All of fucking life’s creator

They asked of us to slaughter
Slaughter!

Slaughter!

Slaughter!

Slaughter!
Why is it that we still go to war?

Is a peaceful reality really so far?

Inner Assassins

This is an article/short story written from the point of view of a sufferer of mental disorders in an attempt to create awareness about depression, insomnia,split personality, paranoia, schizophrenia,bipolar disorder and various other classifications.

“Hello. I’m writing this because I’m unable to organise my thoughts on the go and only because you really want to know what happens inside my head, instead of trying to predict my state of mind. I understand why you want to know, I mean no one is capable of predicting anybody’s state of mind. If it is of any comfort to you, for me to tell you what happens in my head, then I will. How you take it is not in my hands. I’m not too sure how I can explain it, but I will do my best.

On a regular day

I wake up. It’s morning. The first thoughts that usually come to my head are – “I haven’t died yet?/ Why am I still alive?/ Should I leave everything and go?/ Why am I like this?/ I hate myself/ I need to kill myself/ What good am I?/ What good is my existence to anyone?” (I’m going to name this T1). 

And then I get out of my bed exhausted. Even after a good night’s sleep. I need a smoke. Somewhere in the back of my head- “I need death” gets repeated until I put on some music to distract myself. I then get out and remember everything. Everything. All of it. All. Of. It. I’m filled with pain, guilt and remorse. I lose track of music and “T1” repeats again until I finish my smoke. Then I think about my day. I tell myself that I need to be with you through the day and mentally prepare myself for it, thinking to myself that I need to stay focused. Reminding myself that I need to be in control of my thoughts and emotions. T2 – “I love you a lot/You make me happy/You need me/ We are happy/ I really hope we make this work/I need to take care of you”. There’s a huge conflict of thoughts and emotions by this time. Everything inside shuts down and I feel nothing. One hour of my waking day.

I get back. Breakfast is ready. Food. I’m unable to stand the sight of it. Everybody’s rushing to get ready and leave. T3-“Always invisible to them/No one cares/I’m tired/I need sleep”. I’m asked something, I don’t know what it is because I’m unable to pay attention. Answer is an autopilot nod. “T1”. I get out again. Back to smoke. Except with a vehicle this time. A quicker pace towards Death. “T3” and “T1” on loop. I get back. I’m late. Get ready. Autopilot. Eat a bit. Leave.

At work

Nothing. No emotions. No thoughts. Autopilot. Converse. Smile. Fit in. Listen to you whenever we talk. Respond. Smile. Act the fool to see you smile as well. “T1” and “T2” on loop. Inner conflict after awhile. Everything shuts down again. Tired.

End of the day

Talk to you. Listen. Respond. Smile, try making you smile with me. “T1” and “T2”.
Get back to my sacred place. “T1”. “T3”. Loop.
Home-“T1” and “T3”. Look at my guitar, all of my books and my bed.T4-“Why am I not feeling anything?/I’m exhausted/I need help”.

Out to drink

Finally. A release. Happy amongst whoever is there to drink with me. First half hour-“T3” sets in. Next twenty minutes – “T4”. Keep smiling, paying attention,reacting and responding. Next half hour. Another emotional conflict. Everything inside shuts down. I excuse myself. Look at myself in the mirror. “Get back to normal. Fit in. Fit in”. I repeat this to myself in the mirror until I do calm down. I wash my face and look at myself again. “T3” and “T1”. Get out. Autopilot. If I’m with you then it’s “T2” and “T3”. Sometimes “T4” or “T1”. Alone in a crowded room filled with friends and familiar faces.

In an argument

Prove I’m right. Initially “T2”, “T4” and then “T3”. Prove I’m not wrong. All thoughts get mixed up. Muddled up. Messed up. I don’t know what to say. Anger. Disdain. Sorrow. Pain. T2. Respond. T2. Respond. “T4”. No. Focus on “T2”. “T2” and “T1”. No. Focus on “T2”. “T4” and “T3”. Focus. “T2”. Detach. Autopilot. T2,T4,T3,T1 and T0. All of it. Feel it. Lapse again into the ways of misery. Detach.

Back at home

“T1”. Dinner. Sleep.
“T0”- “Make a change, kill yourself/Find a way to detach from everybody/ Death”. T0 on loop till I fall asleep.

“Where are my pills? Where is the white one? Where is the pink one? Whatever happened to the green one? Where are all of you hiding?”

Fleeting shadows. Subliminal whispers. Visual and auditory hallucinations. Fear.

“What’s that sound? Is anybody there?! Come out! Fuck. Where are the tiny angels who keep me sane?”

“I need a refill.”

This is how it is in my head every waking moment. Even when I’m smiling at you or laughing with you I’m still thinking about Death. Suicide. Hate. Misery. Sorrow. Pain. I haven’t been able to describe it exactly as it happens in my head. You wanted to know how it was inside my head and I have tried my best to put them into words. The repetitions for “T1″,”T3” and “T4″ are far higher than what I’ve mentioned. I have never tried explaining how it is inside my head and this is the first time I have. But I will from now on atleast, never tell you I’m messed up. Apparently suffering from various mental health disorders is not an excuse. I will remember that until the day I die. It is sad. The free-er I feel around you, the more I open up to you. The more I trust you. Only to end up feeling like I’ll drag you into this mess. And then, you’ll resent me. Guess I really can’t be without my mask with anyone. I will be as I was with you before you got to know me. That way atleast, you’ll be happy.”

“It’s never too late to listen,

To hidden tears that glisten”