Am I reaching you ?…
(Scream by Edvard Munch)
Sometimes you don't recognise your friends
You look at them harder and longer, recalling them..
You look through narrow slits as if they were headlights
You know they don't know, they have no idea
The general chatter, some talk is going on and they don't know the distance
Laughter, joke, chuckle, pause, chatter
You go out for a breath of fresh air
You have to carry yourself
You feel like you are finally in touch with reality
Out of yourself
Looking aerially at this Malvika Jain with whom you have to spend the rest of her life
So stuck in one person
Balloonface, slow motion, inverse colour, falling forwards flat on the face, Looped action, Never ever really falling and getting there with face on the table
I must write this down, record this reality
I grasp pencil and paper and write in an ugly scrawl
I remember people use pens and pencils to write
They write on paper
The human race had achieved this feat - this art of writing
Since quite some time
The magnitude of the accomplishment dawns upon me
I also remember that people laugh and people cry, a whole range of emotions
What is laughing and what is crying, why is it done, I cant figure out as hard as I try
This is so real and so scary and such a zap
So many thoughts running in my head, running ahead till they stumble, fall over each other, catapult and leap over each other's head to make it first
Which ones are reaching my mouth, forming words and getting spoken..
Which ones are only thoughts?
Of all the millions of thoughts which are words, which are in my head I have no idea
Its scary to wonder how much of my mental state is revealed and what is in me
What thoughts of mine do my friends know?
Am I expressive to them right now, am I being bold and insane or am I dropping pearls of wisdom
We so often continue to act according to the impression we are making
No reference point for my being in company when I don't know what i am to them
They look puzzled, they are prodding me
Maybe in all this deafening rush of thoughts nothing was spoken
I was silent all along
I want to speak
I want to say something
Having spoken I cant understand whether I just spoke or was that just a loud thought in my head
I feel stifled with thoughts
I want to speak
I want to get back in touch with that substance of yesterday and all the years before
I am out there in reality and can't contact Malvika Jain or the medium she uses for communication
I am too much out there, flung far away
They still shake me and ask me to say something
Later I discover that I was actually speaking and the people around me were just playing with my mind. Dummbfucks!