Shackled Mind

shackled-mind

He was on the edge of the cliff, just about to jump. He did not know why. Or maybe he did. He did not want to. Or maybe he did. But actually it did not matter because either way, he was dying. His mind was the killer.

Shackled mind had cramped him for space to breathe. His mind had no vent. And the worst (or the best) part was, the world had no clue about it. It was like he was floating alone in the middle of an ocean wearing a life jacket and the life jacket had a hair sized hole in it letting the air whisper away. With each moment, without a realizing, he would sink a little.

He had no reasons to be where he was or what he was feeling. He, in fact, had reasons to be repelled by anxiety and restrain. He had reasons to be free and flying. He knew what he had.

Still, the shackled mind was the greatest illusionist.


Photo Credit: geralt

Empty

Why does it always have to be that something must be going on in my mind? In my heart? Why?

Why can’t I just be void so that nothing can hurt me and I hurt nothing? Why can’t numbness swathe me from all sides and up and down for no season can swing my moods? Why everything can’t turn grey and I cannot make out the blacks and the whites apart? Why? Why not?

Why can’t my heart be annulled for sensation? Why can’t my mind be the vacuum where thoughts find no place to land, or survive? Continue reading “Empty”

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