Mr. Dismal, the Cloud

My nimble steps gently hit the ground,
And so do the tears of Mr. Dismal, the Cloud,
Burst burst burst, he bursts out loud!
A slow drizzle followed by a big blow-out.
I ask Mr. Drizzle why he's always so sad,
He told me that he was missing his dad,
A strict mom, no friends, and a cranky sibling,
Mr. Dismal, the Cloud is so full of feelings.
I let him cry for a while or two,
Until we reach a familiar zoo,
I show Mr. Dismal the animals in the cage,
Seeing their loneliness fills him with rage,
I tell him you're free and float without fear,
With other clouds in the troposphere
An aesthetic you are, and a curtain to the sky,
Hidden behind you, beautiful gems of light,
Why this sadness engulfs you then?
Mr. Dismal, please be happy again!

Dining with depression

The polished oak of the long dining table glows silver, from the reflection of the chandelier dancing above it. I look at the sharp crystals hanging from them, struck by warm rays of the evening sun. There is food everywhere, baskets of bright red apples with bunch of grapes spilling out of it, a large loaf of bread with chocolate filling, boiled vegetables dipped in a bowl of hot cheese and wine, lots of sparkling wine. A crackling sound from the fireplace is the only sound one hears in the hall, the logs burning with an intense red that fills the place with warmth. I sit there, looking at all the silverware and pick my knife to cut a piece out of the juicy chicken. As I go further, there is a knock on my door, a light thud. ‘Who could it be at this time?’ I wonder. Keeping the silverware back to its place next to my plate, I stand up to go towards the door. Suddenly there is a sound of whoosh as the curtains start flapping because of the strong wind. I turn my knob and push the door wide open, only to be greeted by my companion- depression. And then it hits me. A surge of unhappiness washes over my body, it starts drizzling outside and depression stands there with a huge umbrella over his head, smiling at me, “I hope I can stay for longer this time”. Depression walks past me as I watch, my tired eyes following him as he takes the seat in the far end of the long table. “Come dine with me, I’m starving” he points towards my empty seat. I sit down, the chair feels strangely cold against my bottom, ‘Did the fire in the fireplace die out?’ I crane my head to check, yes it did. I look at the chandelier above me, the sharp crystals look like icicles now, ready to fall any moment and dent the beautiful oak table. The sudden chill in the air is unbearable, I clasp both of my arms and then my eyes meet my companions’, sitting right in front of me, in the distance between us are fruits that have turned rotten, bad smelling cheese, and spilled wine. I gaze into what seems like an endless void, an abyss looking back at me, ready to hypnotize me and take me inside. “Now stop looking at me like that” Depression says softly. Aghast, I slump back into my seat and rest my head on the back, ‘Couldn’t he see what he was doing to me?’ I thought, yet too tired to protest. I recalled the many times this had happened before, depression coming unannounced and wrecking the pretty little house I had built for myself. “You haven’t eaten a thing” he says as he gulps down an entire bottle of wine and puts a grape in his mouth. I look at all the tasteless food in front of me and shake my head. “I heard you lost your job, not very surprising huh?” Depression smirks. I give him a look of distaste as he continues, “And what about that lover of yours? He finally left you didn’t he? I told you, you have nobody in this world except me”. The thought of all the good memories with my lover surface, they fill my body with an inexpressible joy for a moment only to be again taken away by his next words. “You’re a loser, I hope you’re aware of that but I am there for you, unlike all those people and things you attach yourself to” My ears starts ringing, my head aching and I clutch my chest hard in the hope of squeezing out the intensifying pain that grows underneath. My mood shifts constantly, from anger to shame to sadness and to anger again. I look at Depression, feasting upon me through his words, enjoying every bite of me and licking his red lips. “Your existence is just a burden to this world” Enough, I smash my fist down on the table, overcome by anger, yet too tired to run away. Taking my head in my hands, I let out a wail, the smash had taken all the energy that I had left. “Leave… leave… me alone” I sob like a child, a puddle of tears on the plate now. Depression looks at me with pity in his eyes, then slowly laughs at my helplessness. I observe his face through the wet film that has formed in my eyes. There is something very magnetic about his personality, it draws you inside. I’ve always wanted to understand this mysterious person in front of me yet giving in to those desires never brought me any good, it put me in a dark alley, one where I often lost myself. In many instances, trying to understand depression made him stay longer in my house, and the longer he stays, the darker it gets until it’s just a series of dark days with no sun in sight. I wipe my tears off and muster the energy to move, slowly taking one step at a time to the direction of my bedroom. Depression calls out to me, “Come back, you need me, I’ll tell you who you are, I’ll answer all your questions, there is nobody who knows you better than me” Yet I don’t look back and keep going until I finally fall into my bed and go to sleep, praying that my guest will be gone by tomorrow. In between my broken sleep, I wake up to hear Depression singing to itself, his mellow voice echoes the entire house, I shut my eyes again.

The sun shines brightly on my face as I wake up the following day. Rushing into the dining hall, I find it empty, the fire comes back to life and a fresh smell of cheese fills the room. I look outside and see children running around, a carriage driven by horses passes by and the newspaper man gets off his bicycle to deliver the morning’s papers to me, shouting out a ‘good day’. I give him a smile, happy and relieved that my companion has left for now. 

Therapists, misanthropy and playing the nice card

Recently I came across this website called 7cups.com which is a platform where people can reach out to 'listeners' who can be both untrained yet kind human beings or professional therapists. After talking to a few I came across someone who was actually interested in listening to my woes, which in the end of the conversation made me feel better, light so as to say. It led me to wonder... all these therapists would really run out of business if people's parents and friends actually made the effort to 'listen'. Why, I wonder, is it so hard? Why does one feel the need to 'fix' everything in their close, loved ones when there is really no fixing required. All that the person requires is an ear that listens, a head that makes no judgement and a mouth that does not... speak. 

Humans are the most selfish of the creatures walking this planet. Even in love, worship, which literally means treating someone/something more than 'oneself', they seek self-fulfillment, satisfaction of their own desires. Once upon a time I was not a very nice person, my thoughts and actions were all directed to fulfill my own deepest desires without considering the implications of it. As I grew up though I realized playing the nice card isn't that bad after all, maybe sometimes forgetting your own self-interest can actually make you feel good. Yet being nice is simply an exhausting job in this world full of bastards who constantly try to project their own frustrations into a person they think won't speak up for themselves, won't object to this inhumane treatment just because they choose to be 'nice'. 

The most painful knowledge is that for the rest of my miserable life (which I pray is as short as it comes) I have to deal with these leeches stuck in my brain, a bother. How I wish I was Light Yagami from the anime Death Note and could kill anybody! I'd probably start with the virtue signalers of Facebook, aha. :)  

Mine

This body is mine,

These emotions are mine,

Yet you send me shivering when you take my hand,

Can I call you mine?

This garden is mine,

The white and yellow roses are mine,

Yet you prick like a thorn when I tend to you

Can I call you mine? 

This house is mine,

These freshly red painted walls are mine,

I trap you inside the cages of my heart,

Can I call you mine?

This music I play is mine,

The art I create, just mine,

Each night my head weaving dreams of you,

Can I call you mine?

This life is mine and mine alone,

The air I breathe is mine to be,

But what if I tell you,

That with every breath I take,

I love you more and more,

Are you mine now?

One fine evening

It was one fine evening,
Sitting under a dark tree,
Amidst shared conversations,
I look into your eyes,
Reaching out to your warm hands,
Our fingers entwine,
Adorned with flowers like inseperable vines,
I press my face on your shoulders,
Heave a sigh,
Heaven I smell, heaven is thy!
Your breath like a cool breeze touches my neck,
While you play with my locks of hair,
Your laughter like golden bells jingling in a church,
Your face so heavenly, illuminated with star-dust,
You're my blue skies, my source of moonlight,
My sun and stars and all things bright,
I lean over and kiss your lips,
My insides exploding in a saccharine bliss,
Our lips dancing to the songs of a lark,
Sprinkling sweet sugary kisses,
As we sit making love in the dark.

Kishi's laugh

I didn't know what true happiness was,
Until the day I made my lover laugh,
The peals of his laughter over the phone,
My heart yearned for the sound to be my ringtone,
And over and over again since then,
I make him giggle every now and then,
Picturing his face in my little head,
Eyes glimmering and his cheeks so red,
Like fireworks bursting and filling the sky with lights,
The sound of his laughter illuminates even the darkest nights,
I wish I could capture his laughing face in a polariod,
Because I've known of no greater joy!!!

Sadness

Sadness,
I don't know where it springs from,
But on the eve of Tuesday it came again,
My good old friend sadness,
A friend? Not really.
More like that annoying neighbor that comes knocking when you're having a wonderful sleep,
Causing a disruption,
Refusing to leave,
Sometimes it comes announced,
Like a bad weather forecast the prior day,
Sometimes, not so predictable,
It's like a sudden gush of cold water on a winter morning that hits your skin like electricity,
Some people understand my sadness,
And some do not,
I can't decide who I feel more sorry for,
It's like introducing that bad friend your parents caught you playing with

Through years I've learnt to embrace sadness, 

Not only because fighting it is like snapping a rubber band only to hurt oneself, 

But at times when I feel I'm all I have in this World,

Sadness looms around, 

Smiling at me, 

My good old friend sadness.