Escapist...

ESCAPE. From relationships. From sunshine. From lonely winter nights. From the lime-light. From surrounding laughter. From downpours. From romantic candle-light dinners. From classic reunions. From tears. From jealous prying eyes. From over-confidence. From thoughts. From idleness, and Idolness. From friendships of the heart. From undying love. From eternal happiness. From melodies and symphonies. From materialism. From soul-searching and wandering. From daydreaming. From hunger. From favouritism. From prejudice. From two-faced-ness. From gyrating questions. From finding the right answer. From trying to be someone you're not. From high heels. From bare feet. From walks hand-in-hand. From poetry written on dried walls. From the road that beckons. From the mall that entices. From exoticism. From the unrealities of the world. From change. From being constant. From getting scared to speak your mind. From being too blunt. From withdrawing. From exploring. From creating. From demolishing. From writing. From putting pen to paper...

Escape...from Everyday!

an ode...

She lay still. Eyes half closed, a mouth parted, probably gasping for air. Everyone
came and hovered around her. The soft murmurs seemed to upset her. The
eyelids that were half parted now seemed to be glowering at those around her.

She seemed to remember, the Love song of J. Alfred Prufrock. 'In the room,
women come and go, talking of Michelangelo'. The first two lines also seemed
to fit in well,and she recited them silently in her mind.'The evening is spread out
against the sky, like a patient etherized upon a table...' Although the evening was
far from what Eliot would've proposed, she did look like a patient etherized upon
a table.

People walked around, making sure they didn't touch her feet or hurt her in
anyway. Thank god for so much sensibility. Some kept staring at her, hoping
she'd open those half-closed eyelids and stop playing peek-a-boo! But nothing
happened. The hands and feet were tied together and she couldn't do anything.
The head was covered and so was her soul, probably in emotions that were kept
hidden from her in years. Tears, smiles, memories, all lashed upon her like a
tsunami of unforseen gestures.

She lay there, still. Not a muscle twitched nor a hair moved. She was content, in
seeing everything hover around her. The world truly now moved for her, and she
was the center of the universe.