Friends, love, moments, pain, joy come and go. One thing that remains standing after the sun has set and the dust settled is me and my dreams. Dreaming big was what I had always done. But then, life is not wonderland-nor I Alice.
I dreamt of living my life in a downtown county with beer in a hand and cigar in another. The reality is so farfetched. Caught up in an ugly educational system I am bound and doomed to enter a “Corporate world” where the following joke is considered humorous:--
“There are 2 rules. One---The boss is always right. Two---Refer to rule 1” Did I miss the humor, or was it never there In the first place?
The exact opposite of what I wanted my life to be. I do not want to spend the rest of my living life doing reports. But there is where I am headed towards. And I am hating every moment of it.
The way we live our lives is similar to what the other head in the crowd is doing. so similar I would only have to change your face to impersonate! Yet we strive to find something within, which would set us apart. A fixed income, a 9 to 5 job, a wife and 2 kids. I am not claiming I am doing something different. That’s because I am not. And that is the sad part!
I shall be expected to fend for myself in the next 12 months. I shall be expected to fend for my family--immediate and upcoming. I shall be expected to attend stupid weddings and birthdays when I won’t even care. I would be expected to get the work done. I miss the part where I would have expected something from myself.
There are so many “Do not’s” and “Hates” in this life it becomes cyclical. I do not want to settle down. I hate numbers and care a damn what they are wanting to “tell” me. I hate the war I am waging, for I find it a lost cause already. The man in me wants to get out. The soldier fights on. (Unfortunately)
The pessimist in me screams defeat.
The optimist cries for one more feat.
The man in me is down and out
The business-man pushes around for some clout.
When the winter began and the shadows remained
Alone-desolate-failed I find my selves to blame.
In this game for the biggest house and the fastest car;
All I am left with is a scrambled brain and a heart that’s so-fucking-jarred!
With Such a lame attempt to write a poem,
One word I know which rhymes is the pericardium!!!!
1 comment:
the poem is smoking hot man
you my fried have metamorphised yourself
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