Like Exile, I've also got very good reasons to blow this entire place out. But I'm stubborn and I won't do that. That I suppose, will be terrible. I know some of us take great trouble searching me only to be embittered with what I write. They expectantly startle themselves and then pretend that this place is ridiculous, and the way I make them feel redundant. The 'kid', they say, has gone down taking himself too seriously; what he makes belief is a total sham of every order. A misfortunate mistaken rambling, see how we've left the it all to deteriorate? But no one seems to be responsible for the blame, if I say I'm Jimmy Porter. The books you read, my friend, we've read as well. You seem to always miss the point, its simple cause it never really had one. Why are you drinking here, when we only thought this was a funeral of yours we had to attend every Monday. It never makes sense, sometimes; perhaps, its not meant to. I'm constantly blamed of being a cynic, someone who refuses to take the organised staid stoic convictions arrayed from your petty mantelpiece to grant as my own. I would challenge what I see in my subtle rationalising to drill a better sense, even a tailor does so. Its always the way one feels, ain't it at the end? You and your thoughts in your bed tossing each other around. Making you feel like a prince in your grave, your sub conscious playing C-grade movies while you sleep on your Mental TV.
And when they ask me: what will you be like when you're in your mid-30s, when you're already like this? What can I say? Can I actually say that if you still have gums that have the strength to retain your teeth and the sight that's impairing, you could find out all for yourself. But I couldn't be rude. Its never complimented my sophisticated sensibilities. But would I be hiding my own horror, to reveal that it never worries me. Doesn't everyone's future has something, that if they know it all would shatter them and make them not move from their winter dressed bed?
What longing to open your eyes. What reason to make sense of the unfathomable. What courage to go on, when your answers are with you all this while.
It really doesn't matter, after all.