Monday, January 5, 2009

THE UPSHIFT THEORY

pain.


why? 

was it not by choice that i moved off?slinked off first and then wrenched out and flushed out into the trash.why desecrate it now? do i miss them? should i miss them?

it was like a fucken time lapse.people meeting each other.reacting.smiling.wisecracks.buttcracks.jackasses.assholes.good people.friends.foes.friends turned foes.foes turned friends.and on my part,an abject unwillingness to flinch.it made a difference.wasn't like i didn't want to react.have lost the will to.some said i had gained too much moss.some said i'd just grown older.i believe i'm just paranoid.one single interaction,the whole cause and effect of which can be unnerving is summin i'd rather avoid.break all bonds.forge none.the old pain may come creeping back up again.but i'm bloody as hell determined not to let a new one make room for itself.there's a threshold for every being...normal,abnormal,paranormal.i've reached mine.not anymore.maybe they are right.i might just be too old for this.disconnected.the people i cud die for at a point of time.just a completely confused state of existence.

and the bloody chip on the shoulder.trigger happy.always polishing the muzzle.cradling the blade.ready to pull the pin.pull the plug.and walk off with disdain.is it the inability to feel?couldn't be.then how is the pain justified.nothin is regrettable.the good times.the bad times.the times now.but that dull thump of a recurring migraine persists.why?like the blinding shock that sets in wen ya get up after a real bad mangled accident with a partially open skull,white knuckles and knees that slowly get flushed with red and asymmetrical blobs pouring the life outta you.wen the lips go dry slowly and ya choke on ur own blood as the post trauma cigarette [the feel of which can only be countered by a post coital cigarette..don't fuckin ask me how.go do it and then draw parallels before ya decide to trash me on this one].

still can't figure out what the fuck happens to go wrong here. the whole situation is like watching an autistic kid playing.u know there's summin about the kid that ain't right but u'll ignore it first,try removing it subsequently and finally try and wash yer hands off it.i guess that should be the endeavour here.move on.shift the gear.ignore the noise.the engine will have a proper run in someday.till then,just gear up for more potholes.good roads.crossroads.but enjoy the ride.don't kill the engine on the shoulder and hang yer boots...yet.

No comments: