Is it the “White Powder”?

He fell down with a crash. He is my fried and if he falls, with a plate full of eatables, smearing
himself all over, what am I supposed to do? What do they expect a friend, like me, to do? Well I’m
expected to laugh, laugh till my stomach starts to pain like heel. Laugh in such an uncivilized way that
the party looks at me in disgust, treating me a man from Paleolithic age.
Why am I silent then? Why am I so indifferent? Why am I so grave and intense in my expressions?
Why am I not affected by the party’s music, why is the food not appealing me? What in me is bringing
this cataclysm of anguish? Why are my lips numb? Why aren’t they yelling like my heart is?
What is the deafening noise inside me all about? Is it the flinch, the sleeplessness, the drink? Is
sleep taking over me? Why can’t I sleep then? Why can’t I feel rest even when I didn’t sleep for two
days? Oh why am I feeling like death? Is my doom approaching?
Everything around me is so scary and awful. Will I feel pain if I stab my heart thousand times? Will
I bleed if I slit my veins? Will I die craving of powder?
Why am I drowning in the swamp of reverberations? Why are the echoes shrill enough to rip open
my bosom? Why am I feeling so much pain? I need the powder

 

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The Irony of Death

After a whole life, after the river of glooms, he lay enlightened,  beneath the tree; the worth of childhood smile, at the end, was realised, and he lay down there in dirt, wearing the enlightenment, kissing the earth.

Unknown  to his enlightenment, his family cried. He lay still, bearing the child’s smile, too lazy to leave his eternal nap of peace.

Birds and  squirrels, his friends from childhood, peered from the boughs above, singing a merry song harmonious to the soul’s  content he held within.

Born naked, dirt played, animals befriended; it took him a lifetime to realise that the dirt he now lay on was an eternal truth; the clothes of hippocracy and rationale, he had stripped; and the lost “socially ridiculed” friendship he had accepted again. Lying in dirt with his childhood embraced.

He fell in love, for the first time, with himself.