I come undone.
I think I am crazy.
No, maybe I am just schizophrenic.
Or maybe I am just wearing too many masks.
Neurosis, J.P. Sartre calls it.
I think of it as survival.
It’s not easy.
You go to places-
That was literal-
Wearing smiles.
Sometimes, you are even kind enough
To give out that precious laughter.
The former are pearls.
The latter are diamonds.
You live in a mine.
Think about all the things
Happening to you.
How could you?
How dare you?
How dare you keep them all by yourself?
Oh I forgot.
As if you have a choice.
Ironically, there are ears to listen,
Minds to stir.
But maybe for the wrong reasons.
Maybe it will just bring forth an
Ineffective effect.
And when you can’t handle things anymore,
You face your familiar friend.
The one that knows your thoughts.
It has recorded them.
And then they mistake you.
Mistake you for a bitch-
Demeaning people- without any reason
And without any cessation.
Now you are rightless.
He has no right-
No right to speak his mind,
No right to opine.
He has no right because of what others think.
He has no right because of what others might say.
Sensible?
Senseless?
Who cares?
The only truth is that
He can’t. He shouldn’t.
His neck is held.
His heart is crushed.
Pain runs in his blood.
With all theses things-
Pain must be too gentle?
No emotions. Lots of thinking.
But amidst all the rationality,
There is no question that he
Also feels.
Vulnerability?
Maybe.
Anger?
Yes.
Hurt?
A lot like it.
He lies in the night.
Thinking of how much more he has to lie.
Thinking how much more he has to hide.
How much more does he have to think
Of what others will say?
How much more can he bear?
Questions!
I thought he is tired of feeling?
I thought he is tired of thinking?
But maybe inside him, there speaks
Life is beautiful, and so is he.
Would he want to go ahead?
Then feel nothing anymore?
Nor know anyone’s name?
Or would he stay
Get attacked?
Then forgive?
Or even get even?
Face that familiar friend?
Think of things in the night?
Feel things by yourself?
In solitude,
You re not alone.
You have got you
And a thousand of thoughts
A million of heartbeats and pulses
Maybe some dozens of tears.
And God is not to be outdone.
Haha!!
Schizophrenic?
Crazy, maybe.
Or that’s just being you?!