It took her Seven Years to complete
That Precious piece of Writing she called 'Toska'.
It saw her through 57 writer’s blocks,
108 Reader’s Blocks,
Odd 6000 Cigarettes,
Odd 7000 Joints,
50 Acid Blots,
1 Kg *******,
3 break-ups,
34 One-night Stands,
114 new Friendships,
3 Suicidal Attempts,
9 New Houses in 7 New States.
All it took
To be
Wiped
Scraped
Drained off Earth
And its history was
her neighbhour- Li’l Margaret to tear it in just a three hour span,
When she was away at a Restaurant Fixing a Deal with her first Publisher.
The Willpower Failure was too Strong.
The belief in the reality called life,
took a wink’s duration,
To make it her full and final success.
Her 4th Suicidal Attempt was a huge success.
She died unknown,
Just like the death of another starving Orphan in the Indian Slums.

Now,
I’m no longer afraid to die.
For I crave and greed for death.
I want to reincarnate,
Not be disqualified as a human again,
Fare
Well
To be a cat
A dog
A bird
Or even a mosquito.
And hence, there is a courage to rebel all, to just  be alive!

We are the dream world.


How beautiful the world would be if there were no great men or saints and virgins and wisest or the kindest and the mercifullest and the sorcerers or the scientists or the philosophers or the murderers or the rapists .
As in, if none knew each other.
If,co existence was a celebrated event.
Everyone on earth packing, and moving, and settling, more than a dozen times an year. Government computers relocating everyone in ease, and earning and sheltering. The main idea of survival was to celebrate all of it. Or, better be an entity of the whole earth. Pack and move and change the setting whenever an emotional turmoil emerged. This routine was just not, not possible, but proved out to be the best world any a baby can be born into.

So darned welcoming.

The world today that we have is anti-life. Borders forces and military and taxes and police all to guard, none to serve. Today you are reminded that you'll die any moment, for each moment of being alive. And then, maybe your body can be eaten by better wormes or burns.

Nobody wants to celebrate life. Forget about the pandas ******* a li'l lesser this year or about signing the campaign against government to support anti-natural planning campaigns, or that lesser people are celebrating the monstrous virtue of pity to hang another's redemption by feeling proud in his disgusting a state. Or perhaps you might say global warming, is amazing. Its deadly. This ******* earth has been subject to all kinds of Celestial, rapists, murderers, cheap killers, dons, mafia, assassins , corpses and lunatics. And, these notorious ones being of space, increased their strength by thousand folds and got **** names too. Asteroids, meteors, meteor showers and space explosions to name a few.
And, to assert it, earth has been surviving all these unguarded events for so long of a huge chunk of its existence without we chipping in.

See !

We are insignificant.

Try, living your own life.

Waiting a charade for a lifetime,
that does not cease to breathe or reap,
that merely glutted.

Gloating away in chagrins
of Purple apples and Silver grapes.
Enwrapped, uncertain, and detached
there's no more thread to be broken any more
on the sweaty rope that my life hangs onto.

I wish I could cry.
I wish I could scream.
I wish I could howl,
Now.
For all That I felt in the dusk of my insomnia,
Was, just the searing smothering of those endless dawns,
As I wished I could substitute the passion I have invested in the fear of this bygone twilight.
For All I did was stare at him with fantasy of poesy running in my eyes,
While he threw our wedding ring on my face,
And walked away forever.
That day to this,
I think
My silence was highly poetic.
I wish I was something other than numb, for that is what poets are made of!