Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mahesh Hegde Nov 2013
How do you come to know if there's attatchment in you..? How can you say that you feel connected to someone..?
Is it by the fact of feeling hurt when someone tells u something..?
Or by the hurt you feel when you say something to someone and then the despair runs through your veins to your mind cuz of the guilt that rises due to your actions..?
Or by the ***** in your heart when the veritable verdict enlightens you after your words attack the Victim..?
Or otherwise is it the simple but the only strong feeling of being carried away when you leave all the world around you and close your eyes concentrating on the point exactly between your eyebrows, thinking of the pure miniscule that was present, before the Creator, destroyer and the protector were seperated, and then flowing in the energy of that miniscule..?
Attatchment and hurt always work like the process which involves equilibria.. And when they both take part in the chemical reaction, that takes place in the mind, Life is defined Partly..
But The happiness associated with the mould that consists attatchment and hurt is of the pleasure that seeps in to your body knowingly pursuading bliss..
But the happiness associated with the dedication of your soul to the non-material world is of the pleasure that licks your sensational nerves in your brain pursuading Ecstasy..
So whenever someone asks you how can you be attatched, with someone or the one that lives in everyone, then by not evoking a discussion tell them, "its simple to ask, but complicated to explain" . . .
- Mahesh Hegde.
Justin Aptaker Aug 2019
death calls
every heartbeat by name
making each one the same

this is your life
this is your life
this is your life
this is your life

the metronome, calling me home, ticking away, fading the day
life can be so melodramatic
like watching static
with the volume on mute
and your mind on mute, numbed by the gentle static hiss of your own personal hell
and the waves that swell
the remains of life-forms onto endless beaches of time

all time is mine
all time is mind

i look out by night
at the vast ocean of Being
and the sand, as it slips in my hands
is not made for my counting
infinity is not comforting

i smell salt
sitting on the naked earth, i draw from a vast reservoir
a deep well
hoping that maybe if i bury my head
under the beachy sand
i will escape the tide by becoming one with the earth and the stars

i try to write perfect words
with the absurd feeling that if i get them right
they will work like a spell
that shatters reality itself
and places me somewhere else
where things were right the first time

after all, we cast reality with words
and all of our pictures come to life
and all of life is our pictures
and words are our entire reality
so we must not be saying the right words, thinking the right words
no one taught us the right words, we don’t have the faculty for those kinds of words

silence and sleep
thoughts of the deep
give no rest for me
they reek of the sleep i dread to sleep
i make noise so that the universe must keep listening
i banish sleep because a white gangrene is glistening
where the worm never dies
and the smokes always rise, blotting the skies

are we the children of Cain? cursed from the face of the earth
is it because of ****** in my heart
that i am marked to die?

we stand shivering outside, in chains and shackles, all in a line
with brothers and sisters in front and behind
and every so often (we never know when)
our captors pluck one of us out of the line
and none of us can stop it
and we are forced to watch it
while they stand our mothers and fathers against the wall
and open fire, but not at heart or head
on stomachs and bowels instead
so our loved ones expire slowly, writhing on the cold dirt
pleading eyes upturned
begging our love to save them
but we can only wait our own turn

it seems that no Mind would dream up such a dream
and give it as Life
to its very offspring

i tremble to blaspheme
but i am questioning
doubting

whether Love has ever tread these tangled paths at all
whether Life ever begot life
whether we are not in fact just the spectacular fireworks
of passion and sorrow
that the universe has cooked up with
its chemical sorceries

which paint once the sky
for an instant in time

Father! Father!
do you even remember the name that you gave me?
do you remember the night you pulled me violently from my resting place
where it was dark and warm and secure?
and you cast me into a cold, hollow womb that continually miscarries
and i was born in a tomb
too soon?

it was winter
do you remember?

the dying of embers
O, wanton December!
Who pierced me with sorrows
and gave me tommorows
but stole all my todays


i inquire into the science
of infinite gaps
of gaping synapse

i investigate the substance of Being
poking at it from every angle
demanding that it yeild fruits fit for our consumption
that it justify itself

must i remind you
that i never asked to be here
and i never consented
to this form or this figure
riddled with cancers

i am the eternal thought
thinking itself
watching with terrified attatchment
these bodies which i inhabit

my haunts, my accostomed places
my ethos, my habits
my character, a socially constructed facade
my self, ever putting itself
into the eyes of others, looking on itself
imagining itself playing the roles
of each of the other children in the schoolyard


but at last, the primitive state of nature overtakes me
i’m going to sleep now, do not awaken me
and when i awake, Love will wake again with me
and all the smoldering, dying wreckage of this day will forsake me

ah, i remember now, the sound of Love, walking in the cool of the garden
when each day seemed to stretch on forever
and the night was full of magic
the infinite gaps can only be scaled
in the space of one instant, no more and no less

working its way back through every other instant
time, since it is a function of mind, is also subject to language
i stand back from the bodies of the dead i inhabit
i am the universal singularity, the one thought
throbbing and pulsing in the ****** heights before explosive creation
i
howl
the body electric
and rise, ******* over Moloch
whose mind is pure machinery
and whose children drown in their insanity

with a cold and broken hallelujah
i hymn the blessed race immortal
and rend the fabric of reality from top to bottom
entering in the place most holy
and die, writhing on the warm, welcoming earth
the place of my birth
the place of my hearth, where the embers glow and spark

December has now heard a lark
Hades, required to return to her mother
the goddess he has stolen for a season
and the Bird rises wreathed
in flame from the ashes
baptizing the Forms of our collective unconscious
with the blessed and holy power of life

and coming to life, all of our pictures bring us to life with them!

*

one can not blaspheme what is not
for one can not think of it
look again at what Love gave us
in the space of an instant, which extends on forever
since time and space alike are a construct of our symbolic processes

i pull out my tabula rasa
i am written on the tabula rasa
all is white on the tabula rasa
all is white
all is white

the waves now are dragging me in
to the ocean without beginning or end
and the depths are alive with the wind
of warm currents and of births and of sand
and death would appear now a friend
leading me in by the hand
calling me into the land

Love is life
Love’s alive
Love is death

Death calls
Written ca. 2011
We stopped dreaming
Why is it with everything we as humans are surrounded by we stopped dreaming
We reached for the heavens when we were told it wasn't possible and we made it happen
We reached for the depths of the oceans to explore and discover things never seen before
We constantly grew as a race to become a more powerful race
We keep each other so distracted with technology, phones, television, radio, Facebook anything to keep us from seeing the beauty around us
Do something go learn something new
Why waste your one chance you have at life inside
Go for a walk
Go for a hike
Go learn a new skill
Get up and discover there are many things to see out there
Even when surrounded by friends and family I often feel empty
There isn't a connection anymore
Everyone is too busy worried about the likes they got on Instagram, or Facebook or how many people they have as friends online
Why not live in the now
There are so many things that are going on around us that we are oblivious to
This new attatchment to screens may make us more social online but has become the death of social life in the outside world
The amount of people that yo could meet, conversate, indulge in new experiences with are endless
Just really need to get out there and discover
Discover something new it's something that will help make yourself more happy
Think of it this way will you be more proud of the likes on Instagram
Or will you proud of the amazing experience you had when that photo was taken
Miley Cyrus  Jan 2015
James
Miley Cyrus Jan 2015
Dude i have no clue
no ******* idea...
why i continue to fantasize about chue....
idk...
what is it...
like 8th grade...
you...
the memory
continues...
after these past 2 years i still fantasize about you
....and i cant picture you accepting me...
for who i am
i can't
....like
when i picture you
...like i have to be o some mila kunis, megan fox, kim k typa ****...
its like i have to be this trophy in order to keep attention
...its like i knew you liked me
....and it was an interesting attatchment ill say....
but...
i guess it wasnt meant to be
i was looking for a **** buddy back then
and so were you
we were 8th ******* graders
i was immature af....
i didnt know **** tbh...
i was an air head...
who only cared about boys, popularity, friends, and herself...
i was a ***** lowkey
i wanted to be on top...
of the world
...of that school
...of him lol
but i was on the inside
...insecure
but he made me...
he fooled me
..into thinking he was securing me
....like ****
i was a fool
and i was def crushin on em
but now....
its really embarassing to think about
like....****
***
was 8th...the ****
ya know
that whole shabang
was really messin up
and im done with that past
pretending...
insecurity..
attention..
like....
i am over that
you were real to at the time
i was insecure looking for someone to clench on to
keep me up
motivate me
....but you did the opposite
you were like a demon in disguise
...no offense
i mean at the time speaking
but i dont want to cringe...
when i see a pretty *** girl
i dont need to pretend to be "pretty"
nor what you want
nor be that *****
because im not
...im so much more
....like....****
im done living a life in the shadows
a hidden life
my life...is what is what it is
take it...
leave it
i dont care
you are gone
im never gonna see you ever again
but i mean im sorry we couldnt be friends
but the tide
the flows gotta flow
ive gotta go
take ****
and ill keep it in the toilet...lets say that
contumacious imagery,

amorous intensity,

prostitution of the heart,

beating off the chart.

a brush of fingertips,

aching for the whisper of lips,

quicksand stare,

vulnerable and bare.

delicate pusillanimity,

accenting my pulmonary timidity

,hemorrhage of thought,

words of devotion wrought.

closure to desperation,

surrendering upon inclination,

innocence tainted by pain,

tears cleverly disguised as rain.

intoxicating appetite for sensation,

hesitation forcing isolation,

my attatchment never satiated,

my soul emaciated.

jilted girl am i,

you are the apple of my eye,

with you i am besot,

,my adoration not forgot.
As the last attatchment from the past clashes with morality and is found to be heavily sad,u wonder why u live as the voice cracks and back slacks, holding your head in your hands, abandoning all thoughts that once made you laugh, You look deeper into darkness till nothing feels bad. just numbess at the heart from a destroyed past. the girl you asked to be your last was your first ex, without a chance to prove you was glad to fix the problem spued from a rumored movement consuming your relationships best, in the dust she went. Hell bent on other fake women knowing they were jealouse you moved on and lost trust. still this slow pause remains odd as my thoughts wonder off beyond this capsul. this dark after taste has replaced my scence of heartful becoming bashful in a natural scence. Guess I'm going to live with this , knowing im going to live to win.
Angel Moore May 2013
I am not offended by your words.
Do not be offended when I smile.
Look up.
Let the sun rays burn your face
and fall,
fall
into a peace,
a peace that passes all understanding.
A knowing.
Of greatness.

You'll fade
they all do.
Learning to love.
Love unconditionally,
without attatchment.
Prepare your heart
and make room for the lights
the colors.
The rainbow beams of every soul.
Even the dark.
Light cannot be without shadows.

"Some Warriors look fierce but are mild. Some seem timid but are vicious. Look beyond appearances - position yourself for the advantage. - Deng Ming-Dao
Miguel Diaz Jul 2016
Oh we loved once,
You were there,
I gave you myself
And you dissappeared
Off in the mountains of Spain.
I'm lying here,
Writing lyrics on my computer,
Singing about your apathy
And my heartbreak.
I reminisce nostalgically of the pressure of your lips,
That burning friction that aroused my desire,
Infatuated love.
Red turns blue,
Fire washed by rain,
Water mixed with tears,
River flowing endlessly
I'm a trout, going against the current.
Reaching for that dry place,
The fire flame.
It'll dry me out but I seek closure,
I seek to find the burning embers
In the cavern.
I know cavemen lurk within and will spear me,
But maybe, from death is rebirth.
From rebirth is debt,
From debt attatchment,
And I'll find that love,
That resurrected unsevered love that crosses
Multiple universes and lives.
I was inspired to write this after watching Richard Linkladter's Before Sunset
love is a sweet and beautiful flower filled with nector.
It has its danger sometimes you can get stung by the
bee of loves anger and hard times,it hurts for a few
days then goes away. danger also lerks in the aroma
of attatchment. Drink the sweet nector of love it goes
right for the heart. It can cause Intense pleasure and
happieness but can also cause the most pain a person can
go threw.
Surbhi Dadhich Sep 2017
I remember the days spent with you.
But, I don't miss you.
I still remember your attitude,
But, I don't miss you.
Your memories last forever,
Your tone enchant my heart.
You are the reason for my valour,
You fill my life with bright colours.
I feel this.
But, I don't miss you.
And I never ever want a feeling of lament,
If there is a defeat of my emotional attatchment.
I want to forget our exciting trips,
I am scared, though being in strong relationships.
And this is why, from now on,
I'll not miss you.
Otherwise, you will become my necessity,
Which I never want all my life through..
I don' miss you..

Surbhi Dadhich.
Miguel Diaz Jun 2016
Oh we loved once,
You were there,
I gave you myself
And you dissappeared
Off in the mountains of Spain.
I'm lying here,
Writing lyrics on my computer,
Singing about your apathy
And my heartbreak.
I reminisce nostalgically of the pressure of your lips,
That burning friction that aroused my desire,
Infatuated love.
Red turns blue,
Fire washed by rain,
Water mixed with tears,
River flowing endlessly
I'm a trout, going against the current.
Reaching for that dry place,
The fire flame.
It'll dry me out but I seek closure,
I seek to find the burning embers
In the cavern.
I know cavemen lurk within and will spear me,
But maybe, from death is rebirth.
From rebirth is debt,
From debt attatchment,
And I'll find that love,
That resurrected unsevered love that crosses
Multiple universes and lives.
I have never been in love or in a relationship and thought was always living vicariously through others' relationships. Always morbidly curious about love and how every love is different yet there is some sort of universal form of it as well with symbols of hearts and cupid's arrows. I was inspired by the idea pf imagining what it would be like to nreak up, the idea of distance and romance came from Before Sunrise or Sunset (the first one by Linkladter). My friend called the piece melodramatic.

— The End —