Monday, December 12, 2011

This word,existence

what was it inside him? a rebel meekly struggling, an angst too weak to burst into vehemence.He hid it from this world by his routine, he yawned along with the others, day after day.He carried it inside him surreptitiously like an illegitimate zygote planted in his head.His morose moods had fed it for over an year. Today, it filled his body from the inside, covered all his organs with black tar. He felt it like an attack of nausea that would not subside. He could bear it no longer, he could not walk as if nothing had happened.It had to be rinsed out of his brain,ejaculated from his veins. But no matter how hard he tried, he could not let it go. It was a parasite he had fallen in love with. It was his creation, afterall.He had nurtured it in the darkest hours of his being, carefully putting thoughts behind his words, shaping it with ideas he coveted, reading it passages from books he loved.It had grown in his stupor,vegetated in his lethargy.It was this word,existence.

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