Eerie Memoirs

Entry 2

I feel nausea in my own skin. I feel a sickness growing inside of me. On the outside, I feel completely normal and calm. However, in my head there are voices. They are telling me how wretched and dismal my very existence is. They remind me that I am nothing. They are piercing into my soul.

I cry every day. Very few days have gone by in the past decade that I have not cried. There have been so many inflictions. There has been so much pain. I just want to retire into a perennial sleep.

I feel haunted – my mind is wasted, my body is tired. Like, an old forest, I feel withered, dead from the inside. Like dark creatures live within a dead forest, malevolence and barbarism thrive within me. It’s scary how beautiful this doomed jungle is; it’s my soul, I’m telling you. It’s my very soul that is filled with darkness that torments my existence each day. It torments me enough to want to die, yet not enough to murder me. There is so much quiet here, I can hear my heartbeats like a drum. There is no air here, yet I still feel poisoned as I breathe in the everlasting depravity within this murkiness.

Every so often a bit of sunlight might pierce the withered canopy, but this ray of hope brings so much more hopelessness to my entire existence. That little spark of optimism, the very anticipation of getting out of this labyrinth of madness, is a farce. Hope is a farce.

I want it to end. This hope is not letting me take my own life. This love around me is not letting me strangle myself to death. I don’t know why but ever so often in this forest of despondency and agony, grows a little flower of happiness and hope.

I wonder how much more I must suffer to close this vile canopy to the outside world. I want this desiccated forest to consume me from within. I want that agony to come out of me as I die, and envelope my soul as I strangle myself, finding peace in every moment of breathlessness. I wish to die.

Photo courtesy - @geetshah26 (click to view his work) 

Eerie Memoirs

Entry 1 

Don't you just hate memories! They have no physical form yet they make you feel like your entire existence is unreal. In just one moment. They blur the lines of time, years and years seem meaningless. All you see is a corporal image of you floating in space and wondering how things changed and how the hell did you get where you are. You're trapped in the same nightmare you keep waking up into.

Have you ever felt the beauty of the day transform into terror? As I pass through the gardens, I feel the ghouls gathering around me. I feel that my demons have taken physical form. I am running. I don’t want them.

I am running for what seems like hours, and suddenly, I can feel an apparition gaining on me. In the endless tunnels, I see no light. “Wouldn’t you give me a chance,” it said. “Wouldn’t you rather embrace my darkness, than revel in the false friendships of those around you?” I think, it was a dream. Nevertheless, it was very real.

I woke up screaming. As I bolted every door and window in the house, I heard the doorbell ring. I opened one door, and saw my old friend. But, all I could do was stare at him. Gradually, I reached for the doorknob and let him in. As I leapt at him, wanting to fall into his arms, he changed form. I knew it. In my heart I knew it wasn’t him. Then why did I open that door? The very feeling of wanting to spend a split second with him was so momentous, that I couldn’t resist the urge to let my demons in.

I can’t remember what happened next. I remember screaming, and shouting. I feel the frenzy even as I sleep. Those demons, they live within me. Every night I as I sleep, I feel the their conscionable presence. They haunt me. They torment me. But, time and again they remind me of how life is exactly like them - deceptive, beautiful and doomed.

I find beauty in life. When every moment ends, the next begins. In that moment, we are as alive and young as we can ever be. Beauty, I believe, seems beautiful because of how much it is destined to doom. Beauty, in its every form is appreciated, because it will never last. The rose wilts, the youth ages, and landscapes crumble into dust. And that is why honesty is so important. To live each dying moment in honesty, in full strength and resolve of pursuing your life dreams. We are destined to die the very moment we are born. Then why is there so much struggle for money, wealth, glamour, power? Why is it so coveted?

Because it is so beautiful. So powerful. Because it does not last. ‘Everlasting’ is an illusion. It’s a farce. When my demons hurt me, they bring me back to the reality. They make me realize that Life is the illusion, and death, the reality, the finality.

In all these musings, I feel like I have forgotten the world. I can’t recognise my family and friends. I feel the parasomnia. And tonight I am screaming again ; tonight I yell because I want them to stay. I want my demons to stay within me, for they make me more human, more vulnerable and enable me to experience feelings with the depth and piercing certainty of every fiber of my being.

In all my oblivion, I remember my friend. I remember his smiling face, the glint in his eyes, his reassuring touch. I remember everything about him. Like he exists in the alternate form of my reality, he exists in my illusion.

He stands guard on the borders of my phantasma and mortality, ensuring that I don’t lose myself within either worlds, that I stay there, with him, by his side. He makes me feel wonderful, and strong and beautiful. He makes my world a fairytale. It’s all so good that I never know whether it is a dream or not. My demons can’t touch him. In all my oblivion, I remember him.

Love is the most abstract reality we have. Love is the most achingly beautiful thing in this world. I wonder that is why my demons don’t let go of me. May be they want a part of it. They want to experience love, and they want me to experience love with the same intensity that I experience misery. There’s nothing more exciting about being alive than having every fiber of your being soaked in emotions. I love my demons.

The very meaning of life is our very existence, in the way we are designed. Our senses, our thoughts, each of these are a key component of our consciousness. Sometimes you listen to a song on loop, because you can't figure out exactly how you feel about it. What is it about rainfall that uplifts you? What is it about love - it's energy wraps all around you. You can physically feel it shielding you from sorrows. We are born with all that we need to truly live life, in all its ways. Yet we squander for materialistic things, and that, my friend, is the tragedy. I love the very sense of doom that the human life is destined to; it is so poetic. Don’t mangle this poetry with preordained definitions of life. Discover your existence. Substantiate your life. Embrace your demons.

Mid-afternoon ramblings

I walked the same road again. I missed her. I have never felt so forlorn in a crowd. Never have I felt so obscure on this road. I can see us sitting by the ocean, looking into its vast expanse and talking and laughing. We never held hands. We never kissed. But it was romantic. It was friendship.

I admit I haven’t spent all these years moping. I had been watching her from afar. But now it was time for us to meet. She lived inside her head now. Seeing things she wanted to see, conjuring images and bringing them to life. She was crazed. She loved the solace of her mind.

‘Hey,’ I said as I brushed her hand, feeling her cool, silky skin. But, she looked blank. Inside her head, I knew there was a storm and I could literally feel the energy from her mind exuding into the room.

I was scared, and I didn't know if she even recognized me anymore. But she just held out her hand and said, ‘Hold my hand, and I will keep you safe.’ This was my only chance. This was the closest I had gotten in years. So, I decided to do it. I closed my eyes, and lied down next to her, probing through the recesses of my mind for an ounce of spirituality. There was none.

In my entire life I didn't feel as religious as I felt that very moment, as I said ‘Dear God.’

I was right there, in that house. Broad daylight had transformed into the dark of midnight. In the very corner of our room, I saw it. It adorned a dark robe, and it was breathing. It was like smoke, but thick and somehow, alive. As it consumed me, I went on travelling to other places. I was breathing it, living its thoughts, feeling its cool rush under my skin.

I looked at her. ‘Now, is the best part. Hold on tight,’ she said smiling. The next thing I knew, we were walking through a path. Those coloured flags captivated me. We walked through the woods until we reached a cabin. It was like the place had no life. None. I didn't even know where I was standing anymore. As I walked into the cabin, I saw it. I saw it all. I didn't know if this was real, or was I just losing my mind?

All my feelings had taken form. I felt like my emotions amplified. It was almost like I was out of my own body and staring at another version of me – a more ethereal version of me. I saw us reunite there. I saw that were together again sitting by the ocean and being carefree. It was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. I felt queasy. As though the smoke I was breathing was slowly poisoning me. So, I let go of her and quickly walked out.

I saw her there – holding on to the bars of the window, peering into the sunlight. Her eyes were empty, and her face seemed pale. I wanted to bring her out of the labyrinth of emotions she had tangled herself in. I wanted to be the awakening she needed. I knew this was going to hurt me more than I could ever endure. I simply sighed, and looked at her face, and in that very moment I knew what I had to do. I reached for her hand and went back into a trance.

As we walked back through the mirth of the city lights, all I could remember was that faded photograph; but my memories were still afresh. There is nothing more fulfilling than pure, unadulterated friendship.

Never Gone

Never Gone

She held Mark's hand and led him through the woods. He saw a wonderful land where the trees were as green as they could be; sunlight was peering out of the clouds and a perfect rainbow drawn across the sky. He could hear a brook gurgling in the distance, and little splashes of water as they hit the rocks.

Mark gazed into her eyes as she escorted him deeper into that magical land. Although he was aware of the enthralling beauty around him, he was more engaged in looking at her walk him through the forest. Her face was gleaming, and she wore her hair loose. Every now and then she would glance at Mark and secretly smile as she looked around.

Suddenly, he felt his vision blurring into darkness. 'Call the paramedics,' he could hear from a distance.

   *** 

'Doctor, is he going to be okay?' Alice hurriedly scuttled across the hospital to get enough help for Mark. 'He fainted as he was walking across the lawn this morning,' she explained.

Lysergic Acid Diethylamide, commonly known as LSD, is a hallucination-inducing drug. All of Mark's tests came back positive for LSDs. Alice only wished she could be more concerned! Mark hadn't slept in six years. His eyes were always red, and he looked around as though he were gazing into a gaping hole. He was a wreck of a person - his soul torn apart.

Six years ago, Mark lost his lovely daughter. A rogue stabbed little Gina with a huge chunk of glass, while Mark crawled across the street trying to save her.

Mark sat in the living room waiting for his wife to step out. The Sun had set. The sky was black and orange; night was silently marauding in. The air was still. His face was blank, yet he seemed to know exactly what he was doing. Mark put on a shoddy blazer, which was the best he had. He looked scruffy and exhausted as always. His face still was hopeless, and his eyes, vacant as ever.

He silently turned on the garden lights. The cake was decorated and candles were lit. She appeared before him in that same blue dress. She wore those pretty pump shoes, and her favourite suede jacket, still bloody from the stab-wounds. As she approached Mark, he could feel the ice in the wind. A burnished aura surrounded her presence, as she simply smiled at Mark and nodded in dissent. In a blink of an eye, Mark lost her. He was immersed in a mysterious hue of colours that formed a mist in the air.

The desiccated tree haunted the arid lawn; Mark sat on the wobbling bench. The dangling branches of the trees formed an ominous claw-like shadow over Mark's head. Yet again, he poured a drop of that pungent liquid on his fist.

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