Dark Horse Arts and Sciences

I see through the deep, dense brown eyes of the artist. They reveal to me some terrible reality that lies hidden, buried deep in human consciousness. Those eyes radiate waves of melancholy and grief, sadness piled up for so long. I see what they are trying to convey to me, they are trapped inside this cage called consciousness, unable to fly free. I feel that tinge of sadness in my heart, a sadness so drenched in utter hopelessness that sometimes the person doesn’t even want to get out of it. He just wants to stay there, left all alone on his own. Society seems like a curse as you start distancing yourself from everyone around you, all you start to like are your room and your soft bed and on that bed, a pillow, whom you hug while sleeping. That pillow has absorbed giant oceans of tears. That pillow has been the source of comfort whenever you want to embrace someone, but in reality there isn’t any. You punch it when you get angry. You have anger issues, but you never show it outside. And that anger has now gathered up inside like larvae, ready to burst out anytime, but you have a decent control upon it. You only get angry when you are alone. 

Another close friend of yours are your dear books. They soothe you, comfort you, relax you. They help you kill the isolation and solitude. 

You are alone and lonely. You feel that ache inside your heart whenever you see a couple going past you holding their hands. You feel numb and quiet, desolate and abandoned, but you don’t hate it. Somewhere inside your core, you kind of like it. You like this quiet, boring life. You like monotony in your life. It may look boring from another person’s point of view, but it’s hell of an interesting ride. 

You rarely connect with someone, and when you do, you get engrossed in that friendship. You love them, care for them as dearly as you can. That person becomes the most important person for that period in your life. For people like you, there is only one or two people that are required. You were never really a person who would go out of his or her way, making friends. You always waited for the right one, the one who will just appear and steal your mind and heart. Likewise, you always had this fantasy, that you probably read from your fancy thick books. 

But despite all this, you still feel numb, deserted and utterly alone. What you ever wanted was a friend, someone who will understand you deeply enough, but there was never really one. The friend that you connect with is far away, in another land, breathing another type of moist air, but still under the same sky. You and that friend still see the same sun, but so far away. You call that friend on a regular basis, but you never want the call to get finished. Furthermore, you want the conversation to just go on and on. You are here, that friend is there, but you feel like you are there, sitting face to face in a café, sipping hot coffee, talking nonsense, checking out girls from this corner of the café, sharing favourite movie moments, but again all this is imaginary. This all seems like a dream, vague and hazy, distant from the present reality.