Asghar Abbas's Blog - Posts Tagged "one-day"

I know you wanted me to paint from memory, I really want to but I can’t. The moon is ruinous tonight. Be honest, we can both feel the full moon, be fair and admit it weighs so much on this night, the fullness of it is just too much.

Even though, the moon is making me, I want to work tonight- through you and through you, the moon feels ruinous, it does, it is utterly vicious, it is absolutely beautiful. You are definitely there. Part of it, of that. All this sordid affair only because you color my words.

Stuck in this loop, this pas de trios, you are as cyclical as all of this, as the moon itself. Epistles you never sent, Wardruna earworms in your head, exulted; you continue to exist while the moon continues to resent you. There is a story in this; maybe even a stolen one. Maybe even yours. But not yours. Exit now. Thief, you lied; it was you who murdered the murder of crows.

I promise I’ll be brave, please stop existing and come back a monster, promise me. Listen, it’s not like I am expecting you to be a mess, but can you look a little less happy?

I miss being alone in my head. It's too crowded now, filled with the wrong kind of kindness and the strangeness of those who have become so familiar, yet refuses to stay familial. Why can't they just leave, go away, and leave me alone? All these people Peopled by urge and need; God, I want nothing and miss everything. What I am, what I have, what I can be can free me, can you say the same? What am I? But it really doesn't matter what pieces you hide from me. Nothing will ever happen unless I fix this. Don't cover your eyes, I have to make this right, right now, right away, all at once. I know, I am a dissent, I am aware of that. My head is a graveyard, full of derelicts and malcontents, and a few ghosts too. And even more are looking to get in, to find a way inside. Look at all these estranged gods such outcasts of time, utterly destitute seeking refuge but my head is no place for them. It is no place for them to make a home. My mind is too barren for them to dwell therein in peace. I can't offer anything tangible anymore, least of all thoughts. I am all over the place. Already the rest of the Other gods are squatting inside my head, taking up space and living there, rent-free I might add. Such as it is, I don't need anything except a song, maybe a garmarna song, maybe, just to see how it'll feel. As it is, I am stuck in this novella and getting real tired of my ink.