Thursday, July 19, 2007

"From my body I could show you a place god knows"


I walked in conscious of the love handles threatening to pop out from my wannabe Fergie black vest. Like every other Friday, it was another night set in its promiscuous character and seductive tunes. I never understood how and when this routine becomes a necessity of your otherwise rebellious life, spent criticising elitist pricks and wasteful indulgence. There were lectures meted out to shocked and bored friends or boyfriends, about the futility of it all and the escape being a trap behind glass walls erected below fake twinkling stars embellished on a dark ceiling. Till I finally knew why my addiction was rooted and where it emanated from.

The rhythm taking over my body, supplanting my senses with helplessness. The flickering sending bursts of energy to watery eyes, devoid of emotions. Certain hydrocarbons overpowering my neurons and surrendering me in the arms of unknown lovers, forgotten and forgiven in a moment of passion. Violence of manufactured talents screaming through the dark corners, trapping my movements in a natural pattern. Eccentric fellows entertaining with their misogynist rant seeped in hypocrisy, making me one all along. Thank you very much. Time to evaporate the vapours of lust and sleep in a backseat with the buzzing of a distant stream.