The Musings Of An Insomniac

The Musings of an Insomniac

why is the night beautiful?

Is it because of the stars? that reflect the infinite galaxy

and tell countless stories- of passion, heartbreak and joy

Or is Diana to blame, riding her chariot

illuminating the unknown in silver

Maybe it’s the smoke that rises up from the electric monsters,

mingling with the wind, who is fidgeting for Ra to appear

Sometimes, the clouds deign us worthy of an appearance

swaying proudly against the inky backdrop

And there it is! the answer to our queries

it is Darkness which makes the night beautiful

allows for any sliver of light, however small, to shine through

gives space for sounds to blare and wind to howl

for minds to weep and hearts to ponder

unobtrusive, yet all-compassing

it comforts those who seek it out

and lulls its children away from consciousness

Then slowly, it dissipates, leaving promises behind

of assurance, of grace and gives up its form for the next day to break.

Feeling

“I’m going to be okay, “

I say, huddled under the table

as shouts echo inside the room

Fists clenched, eyes shut

Heart fluttering like a hummingbird’s wings

I sensed the Feeling for the first time then.

“It’s going to be okay,”

I tell myself, wrapped in a starry blanket

the material soft in my fists.

The Feeling is more familiar now, has been

given a name I don’t tell anyone

Books and assignments pile up around me

Growing up is hard; the Feeling has

made that clear.

“It’s alright, you can do this,”

I insist, the plastic cup denting in my grip

half full of tepid liquid.

The Feeling, now a constant, vibrates inside of me,

It’s a new beginning, a fresh(ers) start

I walk up up the strangers, a half smile on my smile,

“Hey, are you guys freshmen too?”

An hour later, they are strangers no more.

“Hey, it’s okay, you can tell us anything,” I feel

a reassuring hand on my shoulder. The Feeling

disagrees, “they will leave you,” it taunts. I look

at the awaiting faces around me, a new family,

and smile –the Feeling is wrong- I open my mouth

and finally say its name out loud.

“What do you mean?’’ my mother asks

And my father’s face echoes it, the Feeling expands until I suffocate; the pride in my brother’s

eyes pushes it down, I take a deep breath and let it out.

“Thank you for being brave.”

My love holds me that night

The Feeling sulks when my parents dote on her.

“We’ve been together so long”, the Feeling muses

“We have,” I agree, “but I think it’s time we part.”

“You can’t get rid of me forever,” the Feeling teases

“I can try,” I retort, “I can keep trying, I am not alone anymore.”

“No you’re not,” it glances at the people around me,

“You don’t want me anymore,” it grins, “I’ll visit sometime.”

“Don’t” I tell the feeling, as a hand patiently opens

my clenched fists and slip into mine.

Don't you have that one fanfic that had the perfect premise, beautiful flow, stunning dialogues and appealing characterisation and you are so so very eager to read more because the world building leaves just enough for imagination and you wait...and wait...and after a while you realise that the author has abandoned it and you feel a little betrayed a little cheated and tell yourself that other people's writing is not yours to dictate and for whatever reason it is not updating you cannot do anything about it but the story comes to you in dreams and you feel sad each time you open it to reread the same X no of chapters knowing that you won't ever be able to give it the conclusion it deserves and slowly you just feel a deep deep wishfulness for that fic while you move on to others?

*During tlo*

Zeus: Every fiber of my being wants to puke at once when I say this, but I need your hehh... I need your heehhh...

Poseidon: my help?

Zeus: yes that

I hereby propose that we re-christen ' coming out' as one's 'unstraightening'