Narcissist!

Tragedy of Wanderer:

"All this idea of existence, idea of being substantial, being of importance, relevant, someone that matters, someone who could tell what is wrong and what is right and world could listen to, would that sustain if one turns to a corner and sits there on a high chair with his eyes shut, like a cat who thinks world is dark once it closes its eyes. What if one stops sabotaging the nights by drowning it overtly high pitched talks about who shot and who got killed, who bombed and who got blew up, who was raped and who was crucified and who was the reason, why someone did it, what if they hadn’t and then follows so many what-ifs, Driving force of life upon this planet. Deciding on characters within bedroom of dull lights and spilling booze in a desperate attempt to turn it into something exciting, something sexy, where one could lay naked with lust in eyes, blood on lips-sucking tongues while singing my funny valentine imitating chet baker.

Oh dear! Such tempting idea to lay down naked in closed room, drenched in whiskey, licking own skin, listening to baby, don’t you leave me of The Who, choosing not to hear see, feel anything else but self. Behaving as if dead yet sniffing like zombie, for who nothing matters but self, and thirst of blood, as here it must be thirst of sound, for sound of war, bombs, killings, destruction, screams, of men-women, children, animals, born-unborn what does it matter. Let the room be filled with smoke of burning skin and cries of dying infants, let me dance upon bones and play with eye-balls, I will decorate my walls with them, I will imagine they are watching me, and I am watching them. I will hug their skeletons and suck the last drop of blood upon it as one licks vagina and I will feel loved, I will feel being filled with sperm of my own ignorance to the core of my womb, womb that I chose to place in the core of my creator. Alas!"

By: Praveen Parasar

Date: 11/3/2015