Lost

Death is the brother of sleep. How did I get that idea. But thinking about it. It is rest, Death permanent, sleep just another form of short death.. short rest… But this is thinking morbid.. and I know I am pulling up my defenses. It should not have been hard I know the drill. Precision. Lose yourself in the intellectual games of great thoughts. The greater the thought, the greater the distraction. But I am not lost in my thoughts… or am I?

Musings to musings… from one thought to another thought - I know I am trying to lose myself in all the ramblings. There is a cure for everything.. there is that great mystery that can be solved if you put your mind to it. This is the basest thing I do when I know that something is amiss. Forgetful thoughtfulness. Erudite way of being listless and out of self, and while doing this I know that I am clinically dissecting my feelings too but academically detaching myself from the fact….run five thoughts at the same time and you still have four left for those emotions. Run seven and there will still be two. Run nine and you are lost…. its a form of denial. Funny how it is so easy to do that.

But I know I hurt… same thoughts, same mournings, same desperation creeping upon my very body and soul that I am lost. Lost because I dont have you… or another or another or another but really just lost because I dont have you.

We met. I was enchanted then you left and now Im lost. Beginning and end of story. A once upon a time story repeated so many times now.

When and if the pain numbs down and it just becomes an emptiness somewhere where my heart, long offered and long gone used to be. I hope to remember that my heart is no longer mine to give, no longer mine to offer and just no longer mine.

But till then I wander in my thoughts for that seraph, that divine attendant, fair haired and sunshine eyes. I will wallow in my sorrow. I willl ache. Move from one senseless amusement to another amusement and all the while carry the hurt and the pain. And weep. Weep till all the sorrows go away……. then ask “Who is it that cries?”

Another thought comes in ….  death is the brother of sleep…. and another….  and another another and another….. no doubt about it…  yep .. still in love …cant tell the story straight………. dissection of a lost cause…..