Sunday, June 20, 2010

Faceless Faithless


The blur of colors tire my eyes as I try to find the slightly perceptible differences between the shreds of everything thrown on the cold asphalt. I look away from the window and curl my body holding my two legs between my arms. Rocking back and forth, hope is lost that sleep shall ever meet my eyes. I’m crouching and crying. I’m sucking my thumb, I’m not a baby, but I wish I could regress to that form.
I tried to take hold of the air, but it slipped away. I tried to hold on to water but it held me prisoner to that state when you are drowning and not dying. Melting between two states, you are neither liquid nor gas. You pray you are something. You pray you are anything. You pray to have a name and a scent. You pray for the shadows you lost.
The car stops. So, this is my station?
I let my legs wander to wherever the complex chaos of life bigger than being takes them.  And I stop. Halfway to nowhere, I stop. I am out of myself, questioning my name, marveling at my skin, loathing this person I must’ve become somehow, somewhere, without noticing. I see a sea ahead of me again. I push myself away, but its water runs within my veins. Past sins condense falling on my head like edgy stones taking away with them a thousand faces I once recognized as my own. And, I stand, faceless. I search within the walls of my soul and though I always believed, I’m faithless.  
Life is there. Life I once had and never knew but from others’. “oh you were so quiet”, “You’d never stop walking” “you were never sociable”  “you……you……you….” I lose tracks of the words and create my own.
When people talk about how much freedom is the heart of their lives, they are lying. Hearts are imprisoned in rib cages and souls in bodies. Brains are within the bones of a skull and being is in the rigid walls of a womb.  And they, when their eyes are outside their heads looking at themselves, all they see is a flower withering away within a transparent bell jar, sacrificing its scent for passers by. I rethink prisons. Prisons are for protection.
I approach a knife, at first, I gingerly hold it. Then, all the fear within my heart dies. Pythagoras said that a musical connection ties the universe together. I always played a violin alone. Even when the melodies life played weren’t the same, I always played a violin alone. And now, life wants to expel me. I plug my headphones into my ears, those are the last words I ever heard, “ Watch our souls fade away a our bodies crumble down, don’t be afraid, I will take the blow for you” and my last thoughts are about what Sartre referred to as sweet death, when a bee sinks in a honey jar. I feel this final release and I think…..
Prisons are for protection, but turns out I don’t wanna be protected after all.

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17 comments:

Brian Miller said...

wow. this ones got some zing maha...that last line especially...it is a cold dark cell from which one decides to follow that release...love teh references through out as well...it makes this person more calculated in what they are doing....nice magpie...

steveroni said...

So this is what is a Magpie? I have wondered...I see the word everywhere.

"I let my legs wander to wherever the complex chaos of life bigger than being takes them."

If I were a literary agent, I'd be after your...er, well, I'd try to sign you up...A writer like YOU is really GOING places --even were you to not write! (But you cannot NOT write. Right?--grin!)

PEACE..and stay humble, as you are so young, with already so MUCH

Magpie said...

"You pray you are something. You pray you are anything." Powerful.
Lovely as always.

RA said...

Oooh! The mental imagery is not just powerful, it's explosive. I love your expressions, the way you handle words. And the last sentence crowns it all. A superb Magpie!

Sam Liu said...

This is achingly poignant, Maha...I never tire of reading your magical words, which are always so suffused with a deep and striking philosophy. The opening line immediately drew me in, and from there every word was a treasure trove of ideas. You continue to amaze.

Oddyoddyo13 said...

This was so powerful and intense! All that from the picture huh? Impressive.

jingleyanqiu said...

poerful words...
you shock me because when I was your age, I write nothing...exceptm school assignment.

Tumblewords: said...

Beatiful depth!

sheri said...

i have to agree with jingle's comment as i was no where near the depth of what you capture with ease. in fact, i often feel like a kindergartener when i read your stories, feeling so overwhelmed by the immense power of your words! i want to leave without a trace of you ever knowing i was here, but i won't, i can't. instead i reach into my very small vocabulary and try to tell you how hauntingly beautiful your work is, and that i deeply admire you!

willow said...

I love the line "I always played a violin alone."

Autumn said...

"Hearts are imprisoned in rib cages and souls in bodies. Brains are within the bones of a skull and being is in the rigid walls of a womb."

Dear, I love you. This is the stupidest comment ever, but I just loved this. I atucally read it.

kathew said...

Powerful-especially the lst line...

Susan Deborah said...

Meanderings of the thoughts: Lovely! Maha. All the others have said so much, they have written whatever could have been said by me.

Joy always,
Susan

Mr. Stupid said...

This was beautiful, Maha. You words are really powerful. I got into the post at the very beginning. Lovely writing...:)

Aoife.Troxel said...

Wow. Just wow.
Your words draw me in and won't let go.

chiccoreal said...

Dear Maha: Excellent writing skills; very poetic. To loose the ego is to free the soul. I totally understand this; now. WoW!

Helen said...

I was particularly moved by the words 'past sins' ..... and how they impact us.