Recycling of Life

I’m dead. I tried to kill myself before but being killed by someone surely caught me by surprise. Why did you kill me?

We were intensely alive. Fighting, screaming, hitting each other, hitting ourselves, making love, embracing each other, dreaming…

The blurry memories of sliding into the sleep and out….You gave me panic attacks. First thing in the morning  you’d start chatting non-stop, jumping around like a hyper butterfly, demanding my attention. I was possessive of my attention in the mornings. Half awake after a night of nightmares or simply intense dreams I’d crave calmness and peace. You’d crave affection. I was affectionate towards you. Expressing it was harder than feeling it. I felt you. Even now that you killed me I still do. I feel your fear. I always did. Your fear plus my fear equals a disaster. And it was.

Or may be it wasn’t. May be it was just another bad dream. I’ve had so many of those – my reality is dictated by my unconsciousness. It doesn’t matter what I plan to do the next day. If my memory decides to attack while I’m asleep the next day of so called reality is destroyed. I can spend it in bed or I can try and fight it, hoping the anxiety will fade away if I try to remain active in the real world. Sometimes it worked. Most of the times, it all was resolved with valium.

I wish you were my valium.

But you were like ‘speed’ pushing me into the impossible, making my heart race, moving frantically…without any clear direction…

I was addicted to you.

And I was addicted to valium.

My addiction to you wouldn’t be sustainable without valium.

Possibly, it worked the other way around too.

We were feeding each other’s mental diseases.

We were…a disease.

Or may be we weren’t.

May be I imagined everything. May be I imagined being madly in love with you. May be I imagined you being madly in love with me.

I think I did.

Otherwise, why would you kill me?

Why did you kill me?

I needed sleep. I needed rest. I needed stillness.

But I also needed you.

I had to choose between the two…and…I chose you.

Silly, I know.

I didn’t want to kill you. I think I was ready to kill myself rather than to kill you. Your liveliness and incredible psychological stamina intrigued me. You wanted to be disillusioned. You wanted to be mistaken. You wanted to be hurt. You wanted to learn.

I didn’t.

So why did you kill me?

An illusion of love is so full of pleasure. Pleasure can not last not matter how addicting it is.

I’m glad I’m dead. I can finally enjoy my stillness. It’s hard to move me these days. Solid as a rock I lay on the bottom of the sea watching lively creatures passing by. They intrigue me. Once I was one of them. Once I was as alive as a starfish – so placid, so vulnerable.

Now I’m firm. This murder of yours has made me even stronger.

My only wish is to stop this crystallising process. But I don’t seem to have control over it. The sea is forming me into a shape.

Cold as a rock I’m only taking what’s mine. I’m refusing to be affected by the ‘other’.

I thought you were mine.

I thought you were the ‘other’.

If only I dispersed into a ray of light….

I no longer wish to be focused.

I no longer wish to be directed.

Why did you kill me?

All I wanted is to be alive.

Yet again, I pay the price for someone’s weakness.

No longer, no longer… I can be attached to the bottom of this sea.

Despite all the weight added by each past life

I’ll rock myself out of this cradle of death.

I will float away from this deadly static point of stillness…into the sea of life.

I’m sure this effort will slim my heaviness.

I’m sure I’ll end up floating beautifully.

I’m sure I’ll be alive again.

And in order to do that I must

I must

I must kill you.

For good.


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