As I sit down to write this there ensues in another corner of the campus the first round of
on-campus interviews for the next step of life. Yes siree tis that
time of the year again
where young hopefuls rise from their death-like sleep (or maybe not) an bring out the already
rusting tome of
past achievements so that they may once more revel in its gloriousness.
I sit alone in my room typing away...
The urge to put my thoughts to paper or rather in this case an incandescent glow of crystals
swimming in unison have drove me to the solace of my room, a quest for peace in this isle of
debauchery, pompousness and all things that make us what we are, quite simply put the characteristics
that make us what we are. I could have ofcourse continued sitting elsewhere mindlessly watching the world pass me by oblivious to everything including my senses but as afore mentioned the urge was too
strong to resist, and so here I sit penning words which I seem to have lost control over quite
a while ago.
'Why didnt YOU go?', was the first remark on most of the lips which caught sight of me aimlessly
wandering the corridors. I stare blankfacedly at you. 'I do not know', is all I can mumble before
stumbling ahead - blindly walking in the darkness of my thoughts. I turn back knowing that you
are still watching, waiting for a better answer. Trying to put on your best sympathetic face, trying
to understand, trying to help. But I know better. As much as I wish otherwise my gaze pierces your
temporary facade giving me a glimpse of the truth that lies inside. Just another looking for a bit
of gossip, small-talk to be made in the company of others. You turn your gaze away, not wanting
to face the brunt of mine. I walk on in my misery.
How long can I hide ? I know why I didnt go and am yet afraid to own up to myself. The sinking
feeling only gets deeper. Perhaps by now I revel in my misery. Seek sympathy but rudely brush
it away as soon as it rears its head, lying once again to myself. This outwardly exuberance is
all the more frightening as it helps conceal the anguish within. That is why I so hate these lonely
moments when I am forced to question my self not for lack of something better to do but more of an
instinct which arises in moments such as these. It was fine earlier. The demons possessed both the
inner soul and the outer manifestation but now the innards smirk with the knowledge that the other
conceals perfectly. Supresses it in public places only to reemerge when the moment is right...
In moments like these.
The destination I no longer know,
the path I cannot see,
but trudge on I must,
for "something" awaits me.