THE WET INSANITY

I was walking, far, very far and I saw, there was no color of anything that could make me pass the lines of metal thoughts and substantial deeds. I stopped for a while and I saw the sky keeping a watch on me. with every step I was taking, it stood still and gazed with its millions eyes of all sizes.

The carnival of my dreams were on for a journey and they were very engaged with nothing much but getting close to their existence. There were element of tears that started spraying from above in the form of rain, they might wanted to wash me and watch my true skin. So I accepted their suspect and gave them my invitation, raising my hands up above and requesting them to pour on me as a wet hug.

The kit of my spiritual parts were seeing the holiness of satisfaction, neither did I moved from my place nor did they stop, but entirely I felt like I was the only one who got this importance, although I gave them what meant important for me, attention.

They saw the smile of my curious eyes, it had three lines of sweet wrinkles running from both sides, I thought I would be successful in hiding them through formal grin, but I guess my face was reading the kind and material happiness that the clouds were in mood to spray on me.

The unsettled angel that was existing in me was asking for a leave for holiday, whereas my evil was always free to give me time without appointments. I said to it, to rise up and show its ultimate ability of spoiling and spilling its super puckish genres.

My sliced nails were bending to the sand and I scratched them, I found them asking for shelter in my fingers, just to feel what it makes to hold the weight of the entire earth on them. And I did see them wet, but very much happy, floating and touching each other within the curves of my palm. I knew they were hearing the sound of my fragrant sighs and they knew the reason for it. It was because of the simplicity of my complicated smells for life.

Yes, I wanted time to be timeless for me and I was noticing it happening to me, even though my watch was still alive with moments telling me that they are passing breath with every second. In the midst of all this, my flawless lips tasted the ink of this amazing drizzles.

The air inside my shaking mind gave me the apology of thinking so less, about things it could have pursued and established. Those things that I wanted to make believe existed but they never got life because I put them to no priority initiatives.

The intelligent flesh above my head was seeking sympathy to my ‘not-yet-wet’ dry heart. This rain is so beautiful, this night is so real, and this moment has no definition. All it did not had was my sadness; everything was getting washed away with eagerness to a new skin taking birth inside and outside me.

It was working as an ointment to my doubtful caliber, cleaning away just not my clothes but those dreary thoughts that were making a desert of give-up-easily salutations.

The shallowness of my replicated dreams was getting a highway to run. My hands were rising like a god in worship. I was getting dry from this; I can now arbitrarily offer myself to my mind’s want.

For some, the sun and the light may be elements to source satisfaction and path. But for me, this rain has bought the ultimate gift of self fulfillment and I may carry it as a legacy to my unending dreams.

And I am walking; there is color of everything, unless we invade our color blindness. This could make me pass the lines of metal thoughts and substantial deeds with just a pinch of surety and blend of colorless and subtle drops. Now I realize why water is pure and a cure as well…