Nightmare On Old Street

The cul de sacs and alley ways of the mind are entirely of our own making
Our fears trials and tribulations are simply like illusions hanging on a piece of string
As I gulp the last breath of consciousness
And fall into misery again
The happiness I once had is engulfed in sadness
I am riding a wave
An illusion without the illusion of being a man
Afraid one minute
Not afraid the next
What am I?

There are many roads a man must travel
And this is not one of them
Punishing oneself for ones own crimes however heinous
Is not how it was supposed to be
And yet we, with our self flagellation
Crawl into ever darker places
And weep

Am I you?
I doubt that
Do we connect?
On any level?

The brevity of this situation fails to amuse you
And yet, I am we
We are it
It is unseen, unspoken yet broken still

Who Am I?

The goose!

Anurajyati (be in love!)


1 Comment

  1. I think it’s important to also see for humans who interact with their families and their friends we see in communities how this manifests it is easy to become accustomed to the same patterns and in social groups, parties, conferences, community discussion etc. the same alley ways are evoked and travelled – usually every day, once a week, twice a week, every week, every month, every fortnight or six months – patterns of behaviour that define who we are – and we are loved however ‘every friday night getting drunk down the pub’ isn’t always the most enjoyable regularity and at some point in discussion someone feels differently and change happens but as humans we do tend to operate the comfortable auto-pilot belief of daily life each day which is why I feel (as someone on the autistic spectrum) I excel being surrounded on a structure of routine and trust with those I respect and love that making things for ourselves and saying how we feel about life is important


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