Monday, December 28, 2015


“did you go to your hometown?”, the guy asked smiling.

“i couldn’t. was caught up with work”, he replied briefly.

the guy went about his work for he had several houses to go to make his delivery for the day.
that question lingered in his thoughts for days. which home was he talking about? he obviously had him confused for someone else. he didn’t have a home to go back to. he didn’t have a sense of home. no belonging, no place to go to. he was a stranger who was forced to confirm. he had familiar faces around him all the time – some accepted while some forced due to obligations. he had familial bonds to force feed, but he didn’t have a home.

days passed and yet that troublesome feeling didn’t subside. the man had poked a tender spot and now it just wouldn’t stop bothering. he felt haunted by voices that wouldn’t stop pelting at his wall of blind third eye. he wanted to go away to a place where familiarity and he were not together. he wanted his memories to be erased. whatever little estranged relationship he had with the world, he wanted it to disappear. he wanted to be bleached.

he stood outside the house at night probably for the last time. it was a cold bitch of a winter night - deserted streets, foggy lights and a cold air.

This is where it starts. this is where it will end.

Continued here

'perhaps the only difference between me and other people was that I've always demanded more from the sunset; more spectacular colors when the sun hit the horizon. that's perhaps my only sin.'.

No comments: