Alive Again

I’m fettered and abused,
I stand naked and accused
Should I surface this one man submarine?

And, Incubus took me back in time, with each word resonating in my ears and crippling me with all that had transpired. This had been one of my favorite songs, little did I know that years down the line it would be playing on loop, be a lullaby and put me to sleep.

Funny it is, we often tend to realise the worth of a moment once it is behind us, funnier it is, for the moment isn’t gone; I am still holding onto it, letting it gradually slip away. It might have been destined, but this has to be the retribution for all my actions of the past, dead and buried but yet undead.
The calling of the past never beckoned, a vulnerable moment did, and the fear of being put to the grind all over again.

We often imagine living a dream, I was living one for myself until the dark clouds gathered all over again, taking me under it’s seize. Action – inaction and momentary loss of judgement, in the hindsight my fear had gotten the better of me. The refuge I sought was denied,  the warmth I so badly desired for has now left me cold and numb, waking up to a nightmare has always been a case, I was living a nightmare all through.

The demons dancing and thumping in the amphitheater of my mind, this needs intervention. But, who will?? One man submarine, isn’t it ??
Amidst all the chaos that I am now left battling, there’s nothing but panic in sight, I have handled it, and panic has handled me rather well. A sedative it has been, imperfectly perfect and always poised to take control.

There was but a time when I would stay conscious of everything, everything I was surrounded with:  man or machine, keeping an eye on the preying eyes and a hand that held mine,  helped me in calming down, the loss of touch has something to do with the resurgence of the conflicts within me all over again, a feeling so numb had not been experienced for long.

But, this again is the onset of something beautiful, I believe. The focus to get back on track, the urge to write and the will to cast someone in words is perhaps even greater now. There remains no fear, I am at a loss having lost what I anyway would have lost, and this feeling is liberating although there remains a tinge of sour grapes. If(s)  and But(s) shall lead me to nowhere,  She did and now I’ll follow, with her out of sight, all I can do is trace a path which would somehow lead me towards her if not to her, and as I hit the panic button; the sense of urgency creeps in; so much to think,  so much to decipher – her silence, her chatter and that fury; which almost burnt me down, and so much to write.

And, as the cold numbing breeze hits me hard, I know it hadn’t felt so cold inside. The test lies ahead, the call beckons:  not the dark clouds of the past, but the warmth of her touch; my emancipation lies there. Right towards her, no not her.

“Love hurts…
But sometimes it’s a good hurt
And it feels like I’m alive”

And, Incubus just said it, I feel alive, alive again.