The night loomed over me like a shadow, discreet in it's foreboding...the streets lay empty, inviting the agents of evil to run roughshod over the weak and the unprotected.
Such is life - the day comes with it's charming brightness and deceptive promise of safety. Yet only those who have observed closely know that it is only a precursor to the darkness around the corner. That is the paradox of life - it eggs you on to revel in a hamartia of power, oblivious in your innocent cocoon to the fact that this 'power' is nothing better than a mirage of life in an endless desert of death.
And yet we move on, caring nothing for what we know is inevitable. Life itself is a standing example of it's irony - why else would it culminate in death. "Hope floats best on a sinking ship" - one of my favorite lines, it sums up how I have come to understand and appreciate life. We all have to sink - it's inevitable. Yet the hope that we might somehow, through some miracle, survive - that hope right there, is what we cling to for all we are worth, prolonging our struggle for that much longer.
I am a tramp. I roam the streets in search of a semblance of food and shelter. My journey is my destination and the shadows are my clock. Days are a distant blur, passing me by in unending cycles of bacchanalian stupor. Observation is my pastime - I watch the world from the perspective of an outsider, unbiased by virtue of my lack of worldliness. I see things for what they are, devoid of any past background or future implications. All that glitters is not to be mistaken for gold, the only 'forever' that comes with a diamond is the memory of a hefty price tag, irrespective of whether the love or the partner matches the longevity of this memory.
And so begins my story. This is the veritable Rorschach test which I have decided to hold up in the face of life, and watch as it crumbles into chaotic delirium in front of my eyes. This is the beginning, of the end that I always wanted yet was too afraid to ask for...
(to be continued...)
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