I could as well sit alone, in the darkest corners with nothing else but couple of martinis, with nothing else but memories etched into my head, into my soul, into everything, like a tattoo you just hate, but still inked forever in your skin. As the dim light smudges the air, I lay completely submerged in my mist of grievance and pain, it’s funny, but they look the same, they taste the same. Inebriated shadows don’t remain still as I watch their cabaret-carnival of forlorn and forgone hopes and dreams. And someone just turned up the music, and it was Sinatra’s velvety voice oozing out from the broken radio and softly breaking my heart.
There is a very fine line between sin and innocence, it just takes a stir, and your life turns completely upside down. I’ve known and seen how good turns to bad, I’m a living proof. But eventually, when you hit the dead-end, you know that the road you had taken was not meant to be, but with all the honour and composure you have, you just walk on, that’s what I did. I would rather crash than stop, I despise stagnancy. Life is a canvass, they say, mine was something else. For me, the only colour that existed was black. And that’s where I am right now, yes, the colour you once chose to paint your life with, is where you live, is where you die. That is the fact of it all. At least, for me it is.
A man never cries. That’s true. That’s why he is called a man. I don't know how I feel right now but it’s a feeling when pain meets pain. A question answered by a sigh, but I always knew the answers. I know my horizon mourns as my sky lowers the veil. I know it hurts and burns the same but if I were given a chance, I’d do it a million times over. That’s me.
Love can be a very dangerous thing. It gives wings, but I traded mine for wheels. It was a rush that I felt. I always knew, there was just no future. I could never freeze time; if only I could. I still remember her face. Beyond all the vagueness and confusion that this world spelled around me, I could go to her, and forget everything. Her lips awaited, as I planted a soft kiss on her lifeless gloomy eyes, a soft refusal and then surrender to all my truth and lies. And tonight no matter where she sleeps, in this world or another, I still hear her voice echoing in my head, but staying with you forever was the holiest promise I would break. Now my hearts is dry and my eyes moist, I heard her voice again, I heard the echoes of the silence and it was the best music I’ve heard in quite a long time. Conceal and deceit was all I gave and I got so much in return, I thank her, my only angel in this hell. Sometimes, I wish I could relive the days with her once again rather than sitting here in some murky bar emptying some cheap vodka shots. Nothing is as painful as hearing the unspoken words.
Sometimes when I think about it, I always thought that I had time, time for everything. I thought I always had things under control. It’s such a stranglehold. I thought they would understand. But they proved it otherwise. Society, in which we pretend to live, is just a bundled up mess. What is it? There’s only one life. You live once and quite unfortunately, live it according to the rules set by others, carry their loads, just to please them, and one day, you die. Between life and death, lies everything that matters. The hardest thing for me and such a simple thing for them, was to walk past the dead, past the naked truth, I couldn’t pretend to be blind.
What pave the path of mine are just some pieces and thorns of time. When the tender dreams of yesteryears crash to the rocks of truth they reduce to nothing but sand and dust, burnt in the infernal heat. Every single day I worked to be a better man but life always gave me the perfect apology and a thousand reasons not to. When your faith swings freely, cut loose what remains, deserted hopes, broken dreams and a bruised soul. I once had travelled the highs and I travelled the lows and what I have realized is that happiness is sinusoidal, temporary and ephemeral.
Well, its closing time. I know I’ll be here again, like all these years. For me, the sky is forever drenched, in the crimson of the dying sun brought in by the passing dawn and leaves my world in shades as the only colour remaining burns away and fades. Just like Sinatra’s voice slowly fading away-I’ve lived a life that’s full, I’ve travelled each and every highway, and more, much more than this, I did it my way……..
