We being humans, seek a safe haven over our heads. At least, that is how our Primary needs function. We grow up building castles, dollhouses, eventually big giant buildings. This concept of a safe haven stirs questions in my mind and makes me restless every now and then.
Every person harbors different meaning of safe haven in his head. It can be in the form of finding safe haven in a lover’s arms or an enormous amount of cash, in one’s life. It can be in the form of seeking affection from people or distancing yourself from THE PEOPLE!.
Then come the MISFITS, the restless kind!
Their thoughts never let them sleep. For them, safe havens are fictional, mythical! The misfits, the gypsies, and the nomads don’t rest. For them, the question is for HOW LONG a roof can be safe for them? What if the safe roofs and walls get barricaded by the most unexpected or irresilient circumstances? Where would we run to? Where would we run for?
Why are the Safe Havens, so unsafe for us in this transient world? Because the world is transient and our stay here cannot be prolonged. The human mind is the cruelest thing, that could ever happen to the mankind. They aren’t shackled, they don’t understand the boundaries. In their wandering, in the chaos, they find peace. They find their safe havens.
Society calls them raptured. But the raptured just questions the euphoric, Is falling out of place can be falling into place?
I don’t have to prove my feminity to everyone, especially to the people who treated me like shit.
I am just a gender devoided person inside a woman’s body. I like wearing makeup sometimes, sometimes Kohl rimmed eyes look so ravishing to me. I am not a part of the judgment and banning brigade.
I never asked a guy to prove his masculinity and I won’t, ever. It’s not his job to safeguard me or treat me like a feline creature. For me, all the men I had had once loved, were also like spirits inside a Male’s body. I’d rather be a humanist than being a feminist.
I am just trying to save my inner self for me. I don’t want them to drag the veil of my soul on thorny bushes.
I am wild, I am a non-conformist and a narcissist. I can’t conceal my innermost self anymore for their comfort.
The time is tough,
Memories of few
glories I had once
Moments of ecstasy I had had
In those moments, I felt whole.
Few lies, I knew about from
Got seduced by them and truth
I disturbed the natural balance.
I hid myself from God,
little did I know,
God sent him to
He broke the perfect
Scarlet color seeped through
every stroke of brush.
The scenerey wasn’t devoid
of colors though.
Those colors weren’t mine colors.
Fate created some horrid Art.
Abstractions did by Agony.
There was a soul in their.
Still clinging to the rotten
That rotten flesh was mine.
Apparently I was alive,
something inside me was
I was breathing than why did
I feel dead at that time ?
My eyes still had light,
but that wasn’t my light.
but they gave Art, disfiguration.