Sunday, February 6, 2011

placidity and peace.


there is nothing left . capitals dont hurt anymore. they seem familiar again . something is coming back to me - words had put me into an inertia , a long drawn move finally , jerkily ends - the momentum is lost.

nothing remains.

nothing except the harsh pain in my sides , where words seemed to have satiated the hunger i had for them.
there is no hunger, and no appetite. there is no fulfillment.

there is no despair. there is nothing , except a banality of purpose , of intention and this meaningless injunction.

i am at peace . peace is not pleasant. i long for war, and the noise , and the incoherent words. placidity , hurts - it is boring, it lacks colour.

we WANT anarchy.

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