Sea

The crowds, the din, the bright lights

The food, the brawls the thinning might

And strong were we some day in the past

But doubts slowly crept as to how long we'll last

And in one swooping fell, they were laid to rest

Everyone was betting, and behold, we failed the test

Broken pieces lie everywhere in its wake

People walk on by with a hand to their mouth

I try t'open my mouth but the pain drowns the shout

Musings

Strife, it seems, is an integral part of any space that you occupy. As you grow older, the space becomes smaller, the strife becomes larger. Oversimplification? Well, not really. I started playing this game called PUBG where the player needs to fend off attackers over a large area for a defined period of time. The walls then start closing in. Everyone is running towards the smaller circle and is fending off attacks. Conceptually, brilliant. Watch your back over a larger area, target anyone that gets close in a smaller area.

You see, I am never one for "fights to the finish" or "protect thy turf" schools of thoughts. I am more of a "let's share and make do with what we have" kind of a guy. Time to reconsider it seems.

One of the other things that I saw during the gameplay was the settings on the display tab. You see, for the gameplay to be totally immersive, it needs to hog all the processing power of your phone. You can set it to extremely clarity, medium clarity and stoned clarity. Some phones cannot even handle the gameplay. But it still allows you to shoot and kill. And that brings me to premise number 2. For most of us, the shooting bit satiates our need rather than the immersive bit.

Have we started dip-sticking our way through life. My Twitter feeds seems to suggest so. So many "point-and-shoot" tweets, no depth or research.

And the third and last premise. I have had the most fun in team mode, but the most wins in the solo mode.

Ah well, winner winner chicken dinner. Makes almost as much sense as this post does. 

Life

I woke up that day, and to god I prayed

I start a journey today,

Please be with me, and with me you should stay

But God was busy, and he laughed playfully,

After years you remember, and pray.

But unlike you, I do not forget so go on, work and play.

And with that I entered this hallowed space

And never looked up, at his beauty and grace

For I was consumed in the melee

And everything was lost in the pace.

Then one day I remembered of thee,

so I looked up in sorrow.

He smiled back at me

Dont grapple with misery said he.

So I listened once again to him

he is afterall the power within

and then I realised that my running was futile

He had made my path a circular file

But then he finally let me be

Let me choose what I wanted to see

And showed me he did some great things in glee

it was I who chose to get lost in the melee.

Death and such

Poetry is a filler that seeks desperately to fill an abyss
The large bed with its quilted comfort offers no bliss
The warmth of that angel that lieth next to me is gone
The body still lingers but the soul is alone

I seek solace in typing out a few words of sadness
A despair washes over me as I am fooled by randomness
Most days go hither in a meaningless droll
Sometimes I wish it is me that Harry killed like that troll

For in his emptiness he wandered afar from his kind
His mindless rantings could not a soul find
I feel like that small grey matter that seeks release
Sometimes I feel I could just pass away as I sleep

Walls

The easiest thing to do is give up. Which is why walls are an important part of one's life. It provides you with the requisite amount of solace for the resurrection. Although of late, there is always a sinking feeling that the resurrection may not lead to what it ought to. Nonetheless life has to move on. And damned well it does. Whether you choose to go along or get dragged along is the difference.

The scraping is the most difficult part of being dragged along. Hearing the skin tearing off your flesh is surreal. And for all those scars, the only reward you have is that you have moved along. That you did not succumb to purpoted moral turpitude, but held your head high. Which brings me back to the importance of walls. They help. They work. They work wonders.

Now I need to figure out how to let it continue working.

 

Travelogue - Satara

Waking Up

After romancing the dark, falling in love with it, living it to reminiscing it, it just doesn't go away. Flipping between going back and waking up, it is truly awesome. And then paper weight. Nice. Feels grounded. Nice.