It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.
Awake, it was bad. So was sleep. Respite was nowhere.
It was as if He was dead and alive at the same time.
As if He was singing breathlessly all the tunes He had ever heard but it was horribly rythmless.
Like someone was strangling him whenever He tried to forget and whenever He remembered.
It was like seeing the whole universe while still being immersed in a confined well.
It was as if He was underwater and in space at the same time.
As if the fabric of space and time was crumpling near him and straightening again.
As if someone was pressing a pillow against His face.
Coldness and heat - He felt both together.
Sweet and bitter - He tasted them both together.
All His past memories which He was living on was passing by him at inhuman speeds - running off like a handful of sand in a fist.
Laughter and tears were as if flowing like rapid streams in opposite directions through the same path.
The pain was now racing through His blood - clogging His veins and blocking His heart.
It was as if all He said and all He didn't was escaping him.
It was like as if he had got the answers to his unsolved problems and had lost them at the same time.
As if all the unanswered questions and all the answered ones were hammering away at His brain.
It was as if He was existing and perishing at the same time.
Rain and darkness was together - and the sun wasn't shining anymore since the moon had engulfed it.
He could see the ugliness and the beauty together.
As if He was vulnerable and strong at the same time.
He was feeling lonely even when among a crowd.
It was as if the rising notes and tempo of the song, which was at the tip of His tongue, was not stopping - neither was it starting.
As if he was hearing the silence and the noise at the same time.
It was as if white and black had merged together - and the result wasn't grey.
As if the colours of the rainbow were draining away.
As if the wind was blowing in all directions at the same time.
As if His soul was being torn apart and rebuilt at the same time.
It was as if He was mad and sane at the same time.
It was as if He was being killed and being born at the same time.
As if all His wounds were being torn apart and sewn at the same time.
He was the True and the False, the Good and the Evil.
He was the Villain, the Hero and the Story Itself.
He is still so now.
I told you this was going to be exciting.
Awake, it was bad. So was sleep. Respite was nowhere.
It was as if He was dead and alive at the same time.
As if He was singing breathlessly all the tunes He had ever heard but it was horribly rythmless.
Like someone was strangling him whenever He tried to forget and whenever He remembered.
It was like seeing the whole universe while still being immersed in a confined well.
It was as if He was underwater and in space at the same time.
As if the fabric of space and time was crumpling near him and straightening again.
As if someone was pressing a pillow against His face.
Coldness and heat - He felt both together.
Sweet and bitter - He tasted them both together.
All His past memories which He was living on was passing by him at inhuman speeds - running off like a handful of sand in a fist.
Laughter and tears were as if flowing like rapid streams in opposite directions through the same path.
The pain was now racing through His blood - clogging His veins and blocking His heart.
It was as if all He said and all He didn't was escaping him.
It was like as if he had got the answers to his unsolved problems and had lost them at the same time.
As if all the unanswered questions and all the answered ones were hammering away at His brain.
It was as if He was existing and perishing at the same time.
Rain and darkness was together - and the sun wasn't shining anymore since the moon had engulfed it.
He could see the ugliness and the beauty together.
As if He was vulnerable and strong at the same time.
He was feeling lonely even when among a crowd.
It was as if the rising notes and tempo of the song, which was at the tip of His tongue, was not stopping - neither was it starting.
As if he was hearing the silence and the noise at the same time.
It was as if white and black had merged together - and the result wasn't grey.
As if the colours of the rainbow were draining away.
As if the wind was blowing in all directions at the same time.
As if His soul was being torn apart and rebuilt at the same time.
It was as if He was mad and sane at the same time.
It was as if He was being killed and being born at the same time.
As if all His wounds were being torn apart and sewn at the same time.
He was the True and the False, the Good and the Evil.
He was the Villain, the Hero and the Story Itself.
He is still so now.
I told you this was going to be exciting.
1 comment:
simply superb !
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