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Sunday, 1 November 2009


I like dying. Isn't that a funny thing to say.
But I do. Life is always there. Combusting in its sulfurous heaps. Flint striking. Gallant sparks igniting nothing. To find mechanical doors. And an endless array of passengers.
Everything about life alludes to death. Or rather the fear of dying. The monsters in fairy tales. The drugs that attempt to make it happen. Fruitless contradictions. That invariably lead to the same dismal end. The child in the corner flaunting her tears suspects empathy will prevail. The old man in his coffin assumes the dark will descend. The logic in the drowning teaches me to breathe again. Those missing hours in the time machine expel the world in fragments. Little cuts. That's all it asks. Patience. And a steady hand is all it needs.
Wake up. The fairy tale has been read a thousand times. The monsters are all long dead. Only the hero's intentions remain unclear. That's is actually the funny thing in life. Many a times we do not know what unexpected changes will occur. Our fairytale love story may change into nightmares as the tale goes on into the main chapters. But that's is just part and parcel of life. Just look forward and accept it. There's nothing we as men can do to change it. At least that is what i learnt throughout my life.
To Live. To Die.
Live And Breathe - Truman