My Chronic Fluctuations

Stretching out and yawning is how the heavy-eyed sun breaks through the coldness of dawn and begins to beam its scheduled disturbance among earthliers, uninvited bright shadows gradually invading this cluttered dismay of mine, “migraine sucking up my brain again, one more snooze I beg, it’s not time yet” this spiteful sun of ours, always too early! “leave me forgotten, stuck in this barren womb, soaked in my own despair, drowned in my empty bottles…” still trying to grasp this distressing fact of antidepressants becoming my new mentos, bloodsucking shrinks, how ironic? knowingly prescribing pill boxes full of troubles.

Rays quietly continue to penetrate their way through everything they comes across; through the dewy air, curly leafy branches, through rippled glass of windows and right into our eyes, our bodies, into our skins and beneath it, accomplishing its mission of awakening dozy mankind.

Morning sounds start to build up; birds twitters, yawns, wooden beds creaking, couples chuckles, bad-breathed jabbers, browsed newspapers, whistling kettles, breakfast hassles and pesky young brothers, irksome chores and nagging mothers, morning greetings, cellphones beeping, neglected TVs and crying babies, school buses, neurotic horns, garbage trucks and annoying punks … ahhh..poor sun, must be remorseful forever.

Away from this and back to my den, my beaten up Alarm/Radio though disheartened; attempts for the last time to revive me, “my last chance to free you out of this pitiable state, will put everything behind us and we’ll make a fresh start, for you I have a musical spell by which you may bloom again, now indulge..”

Low-keyed music intro.. sounds familiar..tones begin to interweave and pitches escalate, one of my all-time favorite tunes start to gush through my ears, into my veins, stimulates my neurons, the calculated beats and the enchanting melodies getting my body awfully unruly, a sudden upsurge, an electrifying spectacle, eyes wide open bewildered by a cyclonic panorama centrifuging visual thoughts and memories floating everywhere, lively images of past times, faces and places, overwhelming chains of emotions, my heart accelerates and my limbs quaver with the rhythm, my skin blushes and my body heats up wavering and dancing, singing along artlessly and loudly, hopping impulsively, one gigantic jump off the bed and all of a sudden I’m in nowhere near anything I’m familiar with, fresh humid breeze gently tickling my face, resurrecting my buried sensations, indefinite meadows with arms wide open inviting maniacs like me to ridiculously play, prance, roll and dash their way towards the alluring horizon, childishly spin around gazing up in the sky, repainting it with my brimming blues, toned down with sky’s fluffy clouds and its joviality, muse over colors of dazzling landscapes, no one dresses up as beautifully as she does, only ravishing mother nature can daringly bring discrepancies into such harmony, green next to blue, who would’ve thought of that? fields and trees, skies and seas, you are breathtakingly drawn to these titanic seas, drowning never before this tempting, and these splashy ebbs and flows vitalizing waters washing my worries away, unleashing my long-ago confined anguish and grief, wiping off my tired untimely wrinkles and curing yesterday’s sores, rebuilding a new stronger me, up and ready to face the world once again, fully armed for the next subsistence fight.. The music stopped, the spell is over, but its uplifting influence remains still, I’m fully awake now and I’m back to my real world.

I used to haughtily argue: “assuming heaven will be my reward, who said I wanted one??” now I realize that every depiction of ecstasy I have is intensely linked with nature and the deep-rooted heaven descriptions, if I’m this much enraptured by our earthly heaven, wonder how pleasurable would it be for me to experience potential unparalleled dimensions, sceneries or feelings? Anyhow, it turned out that –unconsciously– a “heaven” is truly all I continue to think of, making it the perfect portrayal.

With this conviction and this simple formula of music and imagination, I continue to pull myself up each time I collapse and god knows they’re many, as usual deceitful hope never fails to find a way within my heart, making the next fall even much harder to get up from…hope keeps on “killing” me very slowly..very gently.

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~ by Merzaqua on December 2, 2009.

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