I hate it.
Is this life?
A wretched one incarcerated within cubic bounds.
It’s not even a screen-saver-like
That comes to life on its own
When action stops temporarily.
Just imagine how cruel it is!
There is no breathing, no living,
No sun rises, not even once in a blue moon
No love, no passion,
No sensuous or sensual pleasures
No soul and no salvation.
Just an endless imaginary existence… that’s all!
I am so fluid as to take the form that stands in front.
Entering and exiting as they come and go
I can’t even hang on to the wall like a calendar
Or, smugly nestle in an album to relive a trapped second.
There will be no memories
No action that I can call my own
But just an imitation, a living by proxy
Like ether, like phantom,
I am … yet, I am not
I breathe … but am not alive
I wail… but you can’t touch my tears.
My greatest tragedy is,
I am two-dimensional
In a three-dimensional world.
(To my mirror image)
12th June 2012