Tug
It’s been a tug-o-war, these days. If you feel gentle enough, you can feel those abrupt pulls back and forth, with rope intertwined by the nylon of the voices, the perceptions, the lies. The truth. You’ve been so assimilated. Can you feel it now?
Poetry is insufficient to explain anyone’s emotions, don’t forget. No amalgamation of words and passion could ever tell what your mind is trying to tell you. Try as you may, and you would never understand the words you wrote. No one else could either. Your body and mind are incapable of speaking a language, for every language is not worthy of its diction, its poetry, its esotericism.
Your mind speaks to you in a pull. Your body speaks to you in a push. When they come together, you’re connected to the world – no matter how many people there are and how far apart we may be, we can all feel this synchronised push and pull.
For every push, there is a pull. For every preach, there’s a sin. For every turmoil, there’s peace. For every law, there’s a crime. For every emotion, there’s a death. For every success, there’s a failure.
But for every love, there’s loneliness.
Feel your brain shift back and forth in this rhythmic beat to the ocean. Feel the whiplash your mind goes through. Feel the string impaled through your brain forcing the friction back and forth. You could never see your sides, because every time you try you squeal in pain. Aren’t you tired yet?
For all the push I’ve done, I found myself pulling it all back again. And each time, the task becomes harder to do. And it seems I’ll blindly do this until it’s too late. Does it seriously have to be this difficult, or am I doing it to myself?
This is not something I can sleep off. That’s for sure.
And then there was meditation.