Mirror Me..

I raised my head and looked before me

And there she was again,

Looking back at me

A face that, tomorrow, will no more be

This mortal coil that I carry with me

Nothing but frail,

Will decay back to nothing, eventually

Someday, will be forgotten

But when will that be?

Now? … Today? 

Tomorrow, or after a century?

I get closer, approaching

The cold hand that reaches out for me

And I see it, right into my eyes

Another me

Quietly, and patiently,

Awaiting me

To be,

And, endly, set her free.

____________
Picture Credit: Mike Wilson

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The Chainsaw Man..

Sometimes blood splashes on his misshapen face

As the ubiquitous screams he constrains

Echos of helpless cries of agony and torment,

And sounds of flesh against saw chains.

A smile of amusement flashes

And on he goes.
Photo Cred: Luis Paico

Toxic..

Running towards a deceitful mirage

Illusive …

Treasonous

A snake that inserts its fangs,

Crushing your limbs and cutting into your flesh,

Tearing it apart

Its venom pouring into your veins,

Numbing you

But throeing every inch back to life

Killing and reviving

It’s toxic …

A reminder of your existence,

And the aching yet ahead.
#representations

Photo Cred: Zachary Young

Le Langage et la Pensée: A Reflection.

​”Quand, nous dit Haldane, un enfant dit à sa mère: J’ai faim ou je veux dormir, il est encore animal. Quand il dit: voici ce que j’ai fait ce matin, il commence à être homme”. -P. Chauchard.

_________________

I’ve been reading ‘Le Langage et la Pensée’ for quite some time now. The book is good. Extremely informatory. But throughout the pages I have yet gone through, I stumbled upon some passages that made me question whether I really want to go on reading. I mean, there is not a single doubt about it: this man is unbelievably and unreasonably and SO carelessly racist and I can’t help but cringe at some of his “ways of thinking”. I am following the advice my friends gave me and am forcing myself to keep on reading till the end. (And then I can properly bombard him in a considerably long review) But this… guy!… is making it so hard for me to do any of this!

I hate to say this but he’s making me hate non-fiction altogether and that’s the last thing I want to do. 

This book was published in the 1960’s. So from the bottom of my heart I’m hoping they published other editions where all this bullsh*t is removed. Or something! Dammit.

#whysoracist #wakethehellup #damn
Pic cred: Myself and the coziest reading place ever–the uni bus!

Wandering..

Wandering in a somber void ..

Thinking about nothing. 
And everything.

It’s so close and

Out of reach.

At the surface of everything

Yet burried deep within.

A sentiment of lostness that unfolds.

My soul ruptured into fragments

Of sweeping, agonous memories ..

Gathering these scattered pieces in an excavated drawer

Longing for insulating, coveted sleep!