This is fierce.

Fierce looks old now.Fierce feels old too..he has lived long for sure.His hair have grown coarse,rough and stringent.Fierce is a forgotten soul.He was rediscovered recently after ages of hiding underneath pillows and being tucked under mattresses.However what seemed like neglect was actually the most sly form of escapism ever witnessed.Fierce faces the world again today with undeniable courage and is not really liked by many.Fierce has lost his teddy bear charm and has become a ragged sorts.It looks like he's twisted a neck and he can't hold his head still for more than a second and a half.Fierce doesn't desire any form of even the remotest sympathy."I've had enough of it," sometimes I can hear him say.
Fierce's past is a distant memory.Fierce won't even show the slightest hint of nostalgia in his worn out eyes that pop out of his face like black metal beads.What matters is Fierce has survived being suffocated and abandoned.Fierce is the hero who not many know about.
Fierce is a not so dearly loved or heard of hero.Fierce is still the most content soul I've ever come across.
--- signed tree hugging hippie.

another of its kind..

So then I remain stagnated,under a cloud.The fuzziness,the moistness..the dream.This city is tragically owned and laughed at,being stomped upon every second by people with to do lists,errands,jobs and friends.People who eat,meet,breathe and rarely make great conversations. I walk this city too.

There was loss and there were words and they didn't interfere.There was silence.Amazing,awkward...terrible terrible.Imagine waking up to a day like that.

Imagine the city waking up to something like that.Devoid of all the craziness and eccentricities that it once dreamt of.The noise...the bustling noise pinched out of its soul and someone equally depressed writing about it.

And then I am reminded of this little girl facing the kitchen window drinking her fair share of milk.She bangs her hand on the delicately carved tiled surface and says aloud..."I am going to have fun today " The sunlight brightens up the room.

*******************************************************

The variant intensity escalated in the form of a troubled truth.This was the heart of the city,the cardiac epitome that floated in rhythmic regularity.
The violence escalated.Peace feasted on what was left.Chaos drowned in familiar waters.How much more longer can it take to sit down peacefully and figure out the difference or lie awake all night and not even give it a second thought.

Demons walk the earth.They are fat lipped,clandestine,dressed in brown and madly in love.
She'd risen to dizzying heights and woken up on the floor the next morning.A downfall wouldn't be necessary..she'd crawled through tunnels all her life.Then she'd scrub the floor,clean the mess and go to work.Dire consequences awaited at the end of the tunnel.

xoxoxo

writer's block on the prowl..
rendered sick to nothingness..

8.44 14th july sunday 2008