Vindiction

voices

Voices! Tearing, insinuating, agonising, resentful voices!

You try to indulge in something else, in hope of taking them down.

But like sly little creatures, these voices know just when you’ve let your mind at rest for a moment.

And they attack, like a hoard of locusts, infiltrating every sinew in you.

Over time, It’s apparent that the more you push them away, the more that multiply. Like infectious bacteria they dominate and consume your thoughts, your mind, body and maybe eventually, your soul!

I haven’t yet found the cure.

The essence of trust is not in its bind, but in its bond

matter-of-trust

A little girl and her father were crossing a bridge.
The father was kind of scared so he asked his little daughter:
“Sweetheart, please hold my hand so that you don’t fall into the river.”
The little girl said:
“No, Dad. You hold my hand.”
“What’s the difference?” Asked the puzzled father.

“There’s a big difference,” replied the little girl.
“If I hold your hand and something happens to me, chances are that I may let your hand go. But if you hold my hand, I know for sure that no matter what happens, you will never let my hand go.”

In any relationship, the essence of trust is not in its bind, but in its bond. So hold the hand of the person whom you love rather than expecting them to hold yours.

~Anonymous

And thus, the change persisted.

october-admit-one

Choke!

It didn’t take long after he came to terms with the shatter. It reminded him of a faint memory. A memory that ashamed him everytime the neurons in his brains chose to remind him.

It tore, just like he remembered. He associated. But couldn’t fathom. Obviously, the reasons were far apart. Maybe he chose not to measure.

Questions died before they arose. He skipped them just like a professional athelete subconsciously does when jumping through hurdles. Only obvious fact staring in his face was a response that would prove a point, from his summation.

So he reacted. Reprehensive, but ardent from his perspective. “Do you get the point”, he profusely pointed out under his breath.

A few hours later, he attempted his meditative analysis. Drew conclusions.

A few days later, tried validating his conclusions.

Failed.

Months later, he found himself exhausted & invalidated.

In time when he looks back now, he affirms that the reaction is hardly recalled. It’s the choke that still chokes!

His search for validation has been out of the window, years ago.

And thus, in invalidation & deception, were scarred the rest of the years, that began one solitary October evening.