I am made of ice; a sculpture that deflects the petite spears of light going through my body into the unresolved destinies and possibilities that linger ahead. The days to come are formless and the paths cross each other in the same way that water splashes when a wave hits a colossal mountain rock sitting at the shore. It is like playing an inane game of chess without knowing who’s white and who’s black. I have no clue what my next move is or the one to follow. All the pieces look the same; the Knights .. the rooks .. the bishops. All are fighting a battle that’s not theirs; a battle weaved in pure fiction. Are you aware of that uncomfortable feeling when you don’t know what is going on with your life? Who is doing what? And where is leading where? I don’t know how to classify things into the categories I used to put them in. I don’t know where people fit in my little messy circle. My mind is full of hogwash and my heart is torn apart all over the place; back and forth between reality ...
We are not superheroes with big red capes or vigilantes who fight crime at night. We are just personas with pens in their quivers and who are passionate enough to share the rowdy thoughts devouring their souls.