Mein Kampf

My Struggle

Ever came to the conclusion that you are just a lousy human being ?

You could never get it right, this being alive business, by following the book
You try to occasionally improvise but you stumble miserably
While all the kids your age seem to have it all figured out
What they are doing with their lives and where their future lies
With their feet planted firm on earth
Well-adjusted to scuffle and mirth
Everybody else seems so natural at bonding
While all you are natural at is pressing against the wall
A plain flower of indifference
Making room for life to pass by
Sitting at the furthest seat in a banquet of hullabaloo
Standing by the door at a party, so no one will notice when you leave
The one content with listening
Just listening
Sometimes, you try to catch up with the conversation
But you soon realize it isn't what you'd rather be sipping
So you chew on the gum of observation
Until you get found out and forced into participation
"Why do you always look so sad?", they would throw in
I'm not sad, I'm just exahsuted
See, that's the struggle; gentlemen
To fit in and find your place in the buzzing beehive
In a crowd of different faces and distinct traces
It seems even harder to blend in

Tell me, sir, why is living such a drag ?

Couldn't everyone be perfect replicas of each other,
Thinking the same way, liking the same trends,
Catching the same kinda feels, and seeking the same ends ?
Wanting to talk and discuss ,expand and impress on the same questions ?
Wouldn't we live in a harmonious world then ?
A world where it is fine to look the other way while talking
When you don't want your eyes to betray
All the confusion and fray they are hiding
A world where you wouldn't find it troublesome to express
When your thoughts have gone astray
Because your audience would make an effort to read between the lines
And fill in the gaps in your breath
A world where it is acceptable to theatrically break down under the weight of stress
A world tolerant of the sudden, extended silence mid-conversations
And totally okay with frequent eye-contact
With the stranger setting across from you in public transportation

Do you sometimes wonder whether it is only you
Who thinks that way;
Doesn't anyone else wish that wanting to be themselves wasn't so constraining ?
Don't they secretly think that swimming with the flow is so tedious and draining ?
Perhaps it is true, we are all equally confused
And socially obtuse
We are all supposed to be in this together,
So why are they so good at pretending to fuse ?
"Was there a Life Hacks 101 class I missed ?", you think
Then what if I refuse to walk down the same path wearing the pair of shoes everyone took turns wearing?
What if I don't want to get out of my shell and participate ?

What if I want to embrace my pillow
And hide beneath my blankets, instead of going out there
And fake it
Instead of trying to bear with the pressure to adjust and adapt ?
The constant hammering at the back of my mind
To find a place to belong to, seeing how inapt I am
What if I don't mind doing my own thing
My own observations and metaphysical musings
Having my own sense of  sad humor
My own hematic genre of music
My own futuristic sense of fashion
Having my own bizarre interests, my own sit of  I Hate, and I Can Tolerate
Hiding a secret list of 100 Things To Do Instead Of Studying For A Test ?
Blending in with the background, drunk in my contemplation

What if I'm fine with being who I am even
If I'm an extra piece of a puzzle that came with the box
And didn't find a spot to hang on to ?

For, after all, what good did ever come out of
Forcing myself to assume a personality
To put on a mask for the sole purpose of gaining popularity
When at the end of the day, it's my face
That will disappear in the crowd of fakers
And it's my soul that is going to blend in the palette of mundane thinkers

And what if I decide that I'm so done being heartbroken ?
That it's high time to defend my originality
By taking defense
To barricade myself in a tower of seclusion
To content myself with the illusory win against life,
When I'm actually defeated and thrown into exclusion
A little birdie that didn't try to fly, was hindered by fear and couldn't leave the tree
Because the warm nest of my comfort zone was such a safe haven
A ship perpetually anchored at the dock, lest it hits a reef bed
On its way out to the vast ocean

Come, have you ever thought how absurd it is
To be so heartbroken and defeated by life in the first place ?
Even though you are still this young, and never left the nest ?
Even though, as they say, you couldn't have already seen
All the worst of this life, nor even the best ?
And that it is wrong to recoil back to your shell of solitude
After facing the first tempest?
And ever thought how your heart would look like
If you could cut open your chest this minute
While you are still breathing, and your heart beating ?
Oh, a maroon organ covered in veins
Constantly pumping life through your limbs and brain
A living entity

You might be wrong
Wrong

Maybe, it's just dead, cracked and rusty
Maybe it will all make sense, when you take a peak on the inside
Maybe there is something wrong with your heart
Maybe it is drenched in darkness and swart
And you can walk around, like the rest, you can breath and talk
But you can't fathom things properly; you have to force yourself to feel
The same way your lungs would forget how to breath on their own
And you have to forcefully suck air every couple of seconds
Until they remember and catch up with the reel

And maybe you know exactly why you are this way
That there wasn't a certain point in time where you started to crack
It's the little things that broke you to pieces, eventually
Like a bow, strained till its nocks kiss
And finally snapping in a violent counter
When it could handle no more stress

You don't have to experience a failed romance
To get your heart so wrecked
Disappointment does the trick
Disappointment in humans
In humanity
In life
In yourself
In everything
In nothing

Disappointment

Its weight is way heavier than any anchor out there
And its reality-check beats you to a plump
When you fall from the cliff of your romantic expectations
And hit the ground
Every lie is a dagger to the heart
Every mask unveiled is a nail planted in your chest
Every icy look from an ex lover
Every isolated nook in which your dark thoughts hover
Every unrequited sentiment you've bore

Is a bullet piercing through to your core

A Ring Made of Flesh

I poked her little pinky hand, thinking she was asleep...and she clasped my finger so tight, without opening her eyes and interrupting her sweet dreams.

I mused in exhilaration; look at these tiny, curled fingers...how could her hand be so small as to barely surround my index?

How was it possible for this fragile being that was nurtured in a dark womb, immersed in a fluid that mutes foreign sounds, and was part of someone else's body for 9 months to be so alive, have a personality on its own ,unpredictable actions that can throw you into a state of mirthful amusement...

How it sleeps so soundly and noiselessly; already feeling so secure and in place, though it just got to a strange world ...
How it doesn't know that its mother has bled and suffered to bring it to this life, but it instinctively clasps at her chest because it's the only home it knows...

I believe a mother's lengthy pregnancy months and momentary suffering during delivery are all forgotten at the sight of their newborn; only this heavenly moment of peace and serenity shall remain in memory..

Holding it in your arms, warm, red-cheeked, wrinkly....what could be more blissful than having one single creature on which you can concentrate the overflowing abundance of love you have ?

I could see it on this lady's face ; looking at her, holding her newborn makes me ecstatic with emotions...
All the love pouring from her eyes,
All this.. tenderness with which her face beams..
You can see it all
You can actually see love, it's not an untouchable sentiment
You can read love like you read poetry, in the eyes of the one that bears it.

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Hey, little angel,
My sleeping beauty in a lovely white gown made of innocence and pureness, 

Would you remember me when you grow up, and ever wonder who was that stranger that let you clasp her finger ,putting off her departure so as not to disturb your sleep ? 

Would you remember all this gust of tender emotions i've felt for you, that I, in a moment of ecstasy, almost swore to stand against the whole world to protect you, that i'd catch a grenade for you, that i would shield you with my own body against the vileness and afflictions of this world , and that i would love you, with all my heart, and all the passion i can summon now and for years to come ?

That i would love you, little one, even though it was the first time i met you, and even though you still didn't have a name...

Would you remember my face, my kind, watery eyes, and curved lips, when you grow up and look back, rummaging through the drawers of your past for a happy childhood memory ?

Would you remember once a stranger that loved you more than anything in this world in a rhapsody of feelings ?

Orchestra of Arrogance And Abhorrence

Andante

The first time I met him, he called out and overtook me
Blocked my way, while crossing his arms
I thought to myself, "what insolence"
"How bold ,and ignorant on how to address a lady"
But I found it amusing
For it's kinda dull when everyone follows the rules
I bet that's not written in the playbook of "How To Charm A Girl"
And it's precisely what struck me about that fool
He evidently thinks he's a dandy
And that all he needs to impress
Is to show up and play it cool

Moderato

He stands too close,
Yet never looks you in the eyes when he speaks
And he is not spontaneous, he would go momentarily with the flow
Then steers back to wherever he wanted in briskness
Though most of his comments are suave, or so he believes
He would suddenly ask a question that throws you off-balance

So i thought to myself,
Niggas bad news

Largo

I don't like the vibe I'm getting from this person
It's quite vexatious how he thinks he's got the moves
I dislike a smart-a*s who loves to flaunt
And it seems he so desperately has a point to prove
Hey, you can be a smart-a*s all you want
Exclusively around your home boys
That crap doesn't work out for me
Oh, and I don't think you've taken a look at the mirror today

Accelerando

It started to really pick on my nerves, how snobbish he is
That ratchet ego of his is getting troublesome
And the way he would swagger like a peacock
Is kinda bothersome
I say, you don't know me well, sir
But you seem to hover around
For a reason I don't understand
So I would like to make a few things clear
Because you seem to veer whenever I try to curve you

1) Words don't sway me
And you don't even Slam

2) Looks don't draw me, not that you are charming
And you can't even Dunk

3) You stop 5 steps away and expect me for some reason
To reach out for you

Ay, what's with that, punk ?

I don't really care, I can ignore your stares
Because i'm not interested back
But your vanity is pissing me off
And you most definitely don't stand a chance
So do you wanna play a game to see who's going to give in ?

The war is ON. fetch your lance, son

Allegro

My abhorrence is evolving into something I can't control
My usual protocol is to never deal with someone I dislike
I don't even look their way when I pass by
I ignore their living existence
And retrace my steps when I see them while looking askance
Because otherwise I have to be candid and blurt away my unbearable contempt
I have that kinda face that says it all, even when my lips are sealed shut

Presto

For a while now, my heart seems to skip a beat or two
When I see him waving from afar
It even stops for a few seconds when he texts
Didn't know that repulsion could mess with your heart like that
I turn the other way when I chance upon them while out
And when i'm caught, I never linger to chat
Exchange formalities and quickly go on my way
Before I betray this tangled lump of feelings
I'm carrying in my chest

Prestissimo

Come, is it normal for abhorrence to suddenly remove its mask
And reveal its lovely hidden face
After all this struggle and relegation ?
And is it acceptable for feelings
To abandon their bashfulness
And vehemently bask under the sunlight, naked
And comfortable with exposition?
I thought I was sure of how I divided people
This one I like,
This one I don't
This one I can tolerate,
And this one I absolutely hate

Right ?

So imagine the upsetting confusion
When your own heart starts acting up
And you can't tell right form left
When it comes to your own emotions
See, at first I thought that I hated his guts with passion
But after a long deliberation

I think,
No, I most probably am
Madly infatuated by this person.

Well, sh*t.

A Fiddle Out Of Tune

I looked at my face in the mirror one day
And thought of how rigid it looks
Just like a fiddle
Clad,
Collected,
Sad,
Conceited
How a human body resembles a treble
Or perhaps it's the other way around
Curved,
Graceful,
Proud,
And bashful
It was after the first time I touched a violin
And fell in love at first sight
How nice it would be, I thought
To carry myself like a Stradivarius
One of a kind, so rare to find
Exhaled, authentic and ageless
Carved with care
Polished and pared with affection
And amazed I was when I found
How different it sounds
When loving fingers caress its skin
And how it would chide in a arrogant yowl
When its strings are roughly struck
How it would squawk like it has a soul
When its E-strings are wrongly tucked
It happened once that,

Under the pressure of my bow

A string on my fiddle snapped
And hurt my chin
Felt as if I offended a lover
Wounded my significant other
And received a smack so hard
It left an invisible scar on my skin
But I felt the pain of the offender
A roaring storm of thunder
Protesting against my blunder
And bitterness seeped within
It found my blood runs,  infused with my veins
And numbed my perception
My heart ? It contorted, and I learnt that cords
Much like human emotions
Are to be handled with great care
And when I'm not feeling well
My fiddle smells my melancholy
And relaxes its strings
It breaks the rhythm of Vivaldi's Spring
And I wouldn't even notice
That my friend is making noises
Because, you see, there is no greater swoon
More pleasure to the senses
Than a fiddle that's out of tune
But still trying to recompense

Камера Oбскура

Laughter In The Dark

Loath me not for my odious honesty, brethren, for I love thee

Despite thee

But I still wonder sometimes 

How I feel pangs of fervent love for humanity as a whole
Yet I fail to feel for the ones I could call
At times I feel that it is all just a long reality show
And we are the actors; though we don't stick to the script
We improvise, we add and omit
Forget our lines and stall in wit
Till our final moments of throe
Then abandon the show at the peak of the plot
And I've always felt
That I was excluded from this strife
As if I was a witness from the sidelines
And I fell back in the race of life
And decided to sit and watch who will cross that finish line
Trying to figure out when exactly did I lose my will to live
Why do I find bonding so inflictive
And mundane company so disruptive ?
How do I find it perfectly natural to be loved by another
But never work to towards the end of being together
Oh, how I enjoy snatching hearts like a crook
Collecting what I steal in a fancy sack
And then i empty its contents on my bed at night
I set about admiring and polishing my game in content
Put them for show on a grand shelf
And occasionally,
When I pass by them tokens of triumph
Not looking shiny and polished enough
I spit at them in a haughty repulsion
Because they are but monuments ; a nagging reminder of my revulsion
Against humans, one by one
And my compassion towards all of humanity

I never believe in chaste love, Batushka

But I believe in conditional fraternity
Because why love the molecule when you can adore the whole universe ?
When you feel the urge to fall into humanity's embrace
What need could ever exist for a single chum ?
If you think i'm Good-natured
Forgiving, kind, a hopeless fool
You must be blind
You should understand that I never kept sound any real bond
Since the time I've found i was being used as a tool
You should know how I'm genuinely appalled at the sight of unabashed goodness
It seemed that the very essence of human nature is bathed in depravity
And any explicit display of morality
Is essentially chaperoned by an ado of heed
Oh, how I longed to bid this world adieu
I was tired and sick of all this chaotic debauchery
And wanted out of it
Nothing to do with it
But, did you know, even my feelings are in grave dissension
For I love humanity, sir
I love humanity, very much so
For being so dexterous and inventive
In the ways it confuses vice for grace
How it decided who remains a pauper and who gets to hold the mace
How we choose to be humane
When being humane turns to be juicy
And ,alas ! when being our monstrous selves is pricey
It is so funny, I swear
How the entirety of mortal notions are falling to the pits of craze
Oh, and you say i'm wise, but let me tell you this
I would pass the offense, I would turn the other cheek
And I'd let you have it your way at my expense
Because next to the enormity of the universe
You and your fallen existence are as good as erased
And I'm bound to this damned race, mind you

I'm a mere brace for this wall made of Humans, with no humanity
A rigid brick trapped in my place,
And I can't rebel, I'm just a sorry thrall
Could never escape my dark fate, being a part of the grand wall
No matter how much I kick and squall

Though I'm called Candid, kind and forgiving I'm no longer
I'm solely a derelict scandalmonger
I take part in this soap opera because I lost my will to depart

Though I came to life wanting to live so bad

I got hit hard, before i knew what hit me
Now i'm just passing my days,
Crestfallen,
At how i couldn't join the chase

As for allowing myself to be crushed and debased by the weight of human atrocity

Pay no attention, because I do it out of animosity
I got nothing to lose since the time I lost the virginity of my heart
I could never forgive the world for how it turned out to be

And this is my ultimate vendetta, against an entire race

This outward cynicism, being nihilistic and bold

There is no rush to do it apace

Indeed, spite tastes sour no matter how cold

Ties of Compassion VII: Gymnopédie No.1

She was looking into the void absently, as if in a lucid dream, or an engulfing nightmare,
one wing crushed under the heavy tires, and the other flapping wanly,while the car was slowly moving back, pulping her sides, vindictively, like a harmful pest that needs to be annihilated.

Though a few minutes ago,she was a healthy creature,alive,taking shelter from the heat under a car with a welcoming shadow.She had a life,she had a purpose,she might have had little ones waiting for her at the nest to come back, little angels that would rally around her in a gay babble.

i fancied i could hear the sound of her bones, snapping like salt crackers at an afternoon tea table. Every bone that was crushed, crushed something in me, something at the back of my skull,plowed by the root the little sprouts of sympathy that grew on the plain of my heart, the way you would pluck weed, ..I could hear them;

tuk. tuk.tutuk.

I couldn't look away; the scene was so sublime, in slow-motion,magnifique in its cruelty,and awakening in its fatality :

The sun,slaying the earth with its rays
The world, oblivious and busy
I,watching in helplessness...and a slight strike of awe.

Her face portrayed surrender and submission, as if she was waiting for everything to end,so she could fly to her freedom, depart from this life,light and cleansed, her mind at ease, and her soul untroubled.

Was she beholding her life flashing before her ?

I didn't know what was more mortifying, watching this pure being slowly and horridly die in pain, or knowing that there was absolutely nothing i could do. That i , if it was possible to leave my place and run at full speed to where she was, had managed to stop the car by frantically banging at its windows , and succeeded in pulling the wretched thing from below that monster, broken, half-dead, but half-alive, I'm certain that I would've immediately regretted it; forcing the poor little thing to live in pain when she could have left in peace.

There were no bells tolling, not a moment of silence in grievance. She left quietly ,like a spring breeze ,unseen, cool in its passage..just like that. Nobody else noticed, not even the one who killed her,and her body was left in the out for the sun rays to pat on and for the wind to caress.

They still ting; her silent screams, distant ,but clear in my memories, and her fixed gaze towards the horizon.

Why couldn't I look away ?

Baracolle, Op.60

I took one look at his face, and immediately got the impression that it seemed familiar...
The more he spoke,with his animated expressions and smart ,curious eyes, the more i was ascertained of it;
We have certainly met , i don't know where,but we did....some time, in the distant past.

''Excuse me, sir, but have we met before ?''
I never let such thoughts dwell in my mind long.
He turned slightly, and carefully examined my face; ''..............I don't think so; it's possible though''

''I believe we did, I do remember you; you told me about your life before coming here; how you spent your youth in various countries and learnt so many languages", and I went on telling him all the details i could summon,"It wasn't anytime soon, but i still remember all of it''

I was surprised myself at my detailed recollection of someone else's affairs; for i don't even remember the trivialities of my own life to begin with;
I recounted what he told me before in a vain attempt to convince him, though i knew it was very forward of me, and quite unseemly in my position, but it didn't matter much, for if he didn't remember, he shall remain a stranger with a null opinion of me ,and we will shortly part anyway.

I could see signs of astonishment on his face, though; partly because he couldn't have possibly told all these details to a random stranger; but mainly, i divined, because if he couldn't remember our encounter, then it must have happened long ago; which makes it even unbelievable for me to remember with such accuracy.

"that's all true........how is that possible", he said with evident surprise, "though I still...don't recognize you, pardon"

He kept staring at my face, carefully, though astonishment turned to a sort of deep contemplation, with a tinge of embarrassment.

I said it was fine and dropped the subject ;I didn't really care if he remembered or not ,as i didn't tell him so with a certain objective in mind; i just wanted to let him know....and i knew well that he wouldn't remember me anyway; for not many people have my weird symbolic memory after all ...

I don't remember voices, see, i don't remember names, nor faces in particular; but i remember impressions :
this person have made such a memorable impression on me the first time; it's his vibe that remained printed in my memory; and i could recall it within the first few moments of our second meeting, the way the smell of a certain rose can tell you from which mountain it was plucked.

------------------------------------------------------------

Dear stranger, whose name i don't recall, and which i have no need to inquire about, I remembered you because you were the first person that told me that i'm beautiful.

Not "cute",not "fine", not "attractive", but "beautiful" ;  as if you took a peak at my soul before looking at its external projection -the hidden lump that was so inscrutable to me at the time, so bewildering ,confusing,though intriguing in its own way, and then described it as ''beautiful'' to sum it all.

I was caught off guard, you know, I realize that i'm okay looking and that a number of people might think so as well, not to sound like a diva or anything; but rarely ,if ever, does anyone ventures to tell me that directly, in a casual, non-flirtatious way, as if you were mentioning a random observation about the weather :

"............It's because you are beautiful, ma sha Allah"

Who would forget such words, articulated nonchalantly, and without any ulterior motives behind them ?  words said not to impress me particularly-though they did, nor make me feel better as a form of courteousness, but simply to let me know, to communicate to me,out of perspicuous candidness, a random thought that passed your mind, and without the remotest evidence of any sort of designs to be carried off after,as opposed to most of the people that abuse this compliment...

Dear stranger, It doesn't matter if we don't meet again, for the value of a poetic encounter lies in it's non recurrence, the utter impossibility of its happening again. Only then does every word articulated remain precious, and every second have a special significance.

Batushka, you made me feel accepted, deeply understood, you taught me to love myself, then left off, like a cloud hasting to join its sisters in the distant horizon.

Oh,how i longed to tell you all this. But it is of no consequence, for, after all, we shan't meet again. We shan't meet again, but i thank you, and I shall carry you in my heart, I shall remember you.

----------------------------------------------------------------

When it was time to leave ,he suddenly turned and said; ".....I remember you now !",with a wide smile.''it happened long time ago; you have an insane memory !''

I don't know if he truly did, or that he thought that it would be a nice gesture to pretend so, but something tells me,the way his eyes smiled, they way they shone ,that he remembered. Because they shone the same way the first time we met.

Funny, this life.
A stranger can say,with the utmost carelessness, on a random account when you are feeling that life hasn't been kind to you and that you need to get away from it all, at the time you felt suffocated with the world's obliviousness- they can just say one thing, the one thing that you have been longing to hear for so long.

"I remember you"