Cheers to the new era.

Trapped to your bed with your white cushion,
Tear-soaked pillow ; earphones playing xxxTentacion.
It's 3 am, and everyone else and she is currently sleeping.
"I can't sleep", Halogen lights still on, insomnia in you currently creeping.

7.2 Billion pair of eyes ;
14.4 Billion pair of lies.
7.2 Billion beautiful faces ;
Infinite ugly masks the human race chases.

Truth out all open does not seem valid today,
Multiple obstacles strangling billions on one single day.
So many remembering worthy histories are made,
Trillion tragical dates remembered unfaded.

Trillions of sperms, one single winner,
One trustworthy samaritan ; Billions are left sinners.
For you become that one, you become the Sacred Angel.
Drops make an ocean, your single speciality will make the earth, as a whole, special.

~ Cheers to your birth.

Fsociety.

NOTE : Please read this in Elliot Alderson's voice.

You, are a REBEL, I see.
A person who holds his/her own set of rules,
Rolls on the grass, like a young off-spring, being wild and free.

According to you, truth is no longer appreciated,
And the guilty roams all cool;
But little you do know that it's all in your head,
Your demons got this in you created.

You say the truthful gets hurt,
And the masked gets it all.
So you put on the fsociety mask, brace up on your distressed jacket,
And totally swear on oath to give up on the society spurt.

But hey, you, rebellious anon.
Can you change on the fact, that,
In the books, evil will never become the key,
And the truthful will never not be the bad?

Question your emotions.

Yes, they find the truth ugly,
But your heart always wants to marry the truth.
Your justice is always behind the bars;
But your intentions would always buy it in a loot.

They call you boring because you know how to refuse.
Because it's your google brain who knows, if you feel hungry,
They won't even buy you a penny worth of fruit.

So anon, yes, the guilty does roam free.
But in the end his heart will still be in the debt of guilt.
His heart knows so bad it wants itself to cleanse and heal.
For what a golden hut it was, to what his intentions have a corrupt tower built.

The guilty let's its demons take over them.

And somehow, you seem to be doing the same.

Erm, do you really want to be one of them anon?

~ Fsociety.

Alone?

So with the few lines of the Velvet Underground classic I start,

But if you close the doors, you'll never have to see the day again.

Stop being worried about not having friends, because, believe me.

Being Alone is one glorious thing you will ever experience in your life.

You care about homo-sapiens? Ask yourself, do they care about you?

Nature does, make harmony with nature!

The trees are longing to get hugged by you, stem-by-stem,
The dogs and cats want some love from you, take them home and play with them.
These flowers grow for you, they crave your admiration.
The rays of the golden sun making love with the blue sky,
as it caresses your skin and your eyes, pleasing your senses, love this god's creation.

Being alone you don't have to face awkward eyes staring at you.
Lay on the floor and capture a moment,
The tree will be beside you, protecting you, instead of walking away and never looking back at you.
Grab that moment, being alone, remember it for a lifetime, keep it to yourself.
Better than keeping in mind the happiness of a viper, who was just meant to attack you aftermath.

And then regret your whole life.

Walls have ears, and homo-sapiens have a mouth to backstab you mentally.
Nature would not do that. Nature has the depth to soothe your soul.
It won't talk your secrets out. It will give you time to think and make you feel more strong to deal the obstacles.
Dogs don't have a mouth to speak, but they have 6th-sense to sense your obstacles, and stand with you in any situation possible.

Humans are just humans. They require psychologists at one point in their life, be it the million-dollar corporation business-man.
Economics exist because they want to state that humans are never satisfied.
Biology exists because they want to state how a human is so complex and how between the coils, lie so many complications.
What lies between the coils, leads to psychology again.
The cycle goes on, just concluding one fact :

Humans will never be satisfied with what they are themselves as well as what others are.

But believe me, we all aren't psychologists to go in the depth of what they want. Don't we wanna live too?
Humans are present almost only to judge you, be it you working out the most.

A friend of mine stated,
"You have a 4- day life.
Suppose you're out of shape.
1st day : Contemplate about what others speak about you
2nd day : cutting off favourite things out of diet, and living on grass and water
3rd day : Look at yourself, still the same, contemplate more about how you still haven't changed in your eyes
4th day : DEATH."

So what I am trying to conclude is, people won't be ever pleased with you.
Choose a path alone, and learn to please yourself first. The world be automatically be aesthetic to you, and the world will find you aesthetically pleasing.

So just saying fellas, humans, what are they? Okay, if one stays for long, but don't they pass away and leave your side? One has to leave, be it on earth or off-earth.

Learn to enjoy alone. Stop worrying about being alone. Life is too short to worry about it. Get out of the shell, learn to explore the world, on your feet. Nobody is assigned to carpool you for a lifetime.

Because you were not born to worry about someone else. Nobody is.

~ Alone?

~Where is your power.

Being born in a family without pressures.
More than my own family, seems like my relatives hold more value than me.
Families with a cut-throat competition, bondage seems to be in vain.
Why compete so much, when your own kid's happiness you fail to see?

"I am 5 and I want to become an artist when I grow up!
Canvas infront of me, painting a galaxy holding a tea cup.
All over the world, people recognising my talent,
rugged and bearded, artsy ladies getting charmed by my persona being so galant!"

"Humongous money I'd make, people sharing my art over their walls,
My wife and children giving me a proud grin, standing in a big art hall."

"Haughty relatives from my family being jealous from the achievements I have made,
"My son earns 3 lacs a month." Well? I earn the same amount everyday,
My canvases hung on the wall, While I am here being laid!"


So much I had thought of, today I am 20.
Pressurized to do something which was against my passion, expecting me to pass with a score of 90.

Nobody valued my mind so creative, every one seemed to look away,
I brought my artpiece to show them in my hands; looks of disgust came my way.

"Wannabe M.F. Hussain, get back to your den!
What will others think of you? You have no idea of it, you're stupid. You have no brain."

Funny how they indirectly depict that in their lives a relative's perspective hold more value.

Now I know why babies cry when they're born, they know what they're leading themselves into.

A 4-day validity life full of competition to prove your power,
Power is what money is called as here, choosing guns instead of flowers.

Well, when you die, I don't think they'll place a gun on your grave and walk away.

Flowers hold the value. Those flowers kept on your grave will carry your soul to home.

And call it a day.

~ Where is your power.

The Tv Industry

The world is a live tv,
The eyes are the camera;
The pupil are the lenses,
The thoughts are the recap of the opera.

The scenery is the studio,
Me, you, aren't you we all just paid actors?
From Sheetal Aunty screaming for water in the nearby slum,
To the neighbour chilling on a friday eve, sipping a glass of his Old Monk rum.

The situations are the genres.
From the Adrenaline shooting of the viewers, to blood presssure rising up the nerves;
From the romantic evening spent by a couple on a cruise like Titanic,
To that hot classmate through that Sari showing off that beautiful curve.

The world is full of channels, and yet we fail to see!
So stuck on that one permanent channel of yours,
ignorant about how many channels your server from above the seven skies has set for us all cost-free.

We are just simple actors possessing of working on one channel to another.
We work in this industry to survive for ourself. Stop being under the contemplative pressure.

Some are seniors, some are the villains, teaching you to deal with your show;
Learn it and slip to an another episode, with full of glee like a colourful rainbow.

For one day when you'll end doing your shows, and retire from the industry,
Experience is what will make you proud,
Did those villains even matter? They were there to teach you, make your mind broad and free.

You gotta remember the good studios, the good sceneries, the good episodes that you had to work in,
You will find your retirement worthy,
Keep them recorded, and soon you'll be home, with full of happiness and on a face, a big grin.

~THE WORLD IS A LIVE TV

Addiction is prohibited

"I got judged today.
Being 20, wearing loose and long clothes even on the night of Friday.
Pulled up hood to hide my curls, large baggy clothes to hide my curves,
Puffing out a cigarette when the anxiety kicked the glee away,
So, I got judged today."

"Never associated much with a hidden-casting fear,
would fly off if a human being came near.
Stood far off from the teenage drama because of the arrogance that made all those puppies sway away,
But somehow I stil got judged today."

"Came from a jinxed family whose greed never seemed to fulfilled,
Hatred and shotguns took place, where that special relation was meant to be built.
Anger on its peak, nerves would always be going cray,
Well nobody knows this;
And I still got judged today."

"Mental problems are always at the stake of killing me,
'Losing my other half forever.' the only thought that at 3 am, drills in me.
Pulling out my cigarette was the only thing that can help me turn the destructed madland into a green ball of water, standimg by the bay,
But who knew that it'll get me judged today."

~ The Gentleman

Once upon a time lived a Wanderlust.
Put down by time, life faded and swirled like a ball of dust.

Beaten by the world, healed by the nature,
Life went on, same problems, just different year.

Birth felt like a mistake to her, wishes to never be born,
Melancholic mind sings a sad grunge song inside, a big grin across the face is worn.

"Life isn't easy,
it's a narrow path to make through,
The valley down at the bottom makes you feel dizzy.
You need support to make it" yes it's true.

Life seemed like a guitar without strings,
A lifeless lark who never sings,
Flute that is never serene,
A silency of hope was more welcomed in.

Like a musician forgetting his notes on the piano,
Playing epoxied notes, fooling himself, but not others.
"Hope you loved my false notes?" hell, its a no.

Like a flesh of meat was her little heart,
easy to be cut and torn apart.

Hoped for happiness from others,
But they knew the lark's weakest feathers.

"Tear them down once she lays eggs!"
"Hmm, that part is delicious. Break those legs!"

They cut down the limbs, hard enough for her to run away.

From.

From the miseries of this huge slaughterhouse.
Broken legs. Heart tore apart. No happiness, nothing to arouse.

Having the broken pieces she tried to tape them up,
Stood up on arms, chanting "Buckle up!"

"Broken heart? I still have heart!"
"Not everyone is bad, people just differ, like pieces of art."

Alas she fell in love once again, and soon she found an another wanderlust the other day,
But seeing no legs, he left her and ran off far away.

She lost it. Lost hope and faith from feeling.
Heart tore down terribly. No tape left for healing.

Initial steps already ruined.
Heart and body totally bruised.

What would she do?
Wearing the grin was easy. But what would she laugh and smile to?

Left all alone,
A young man came suited up.

Tape and scissor in his hand,
Bringing his bond to her like a magic wand.

Tall but broken,
Bearded and tear-soaken,

"I am here to mend your heart madamè" he whispers,
Brings a sample of his broken heart as he whimpers.
She shows him his broken heart, as he says,
"Hey it's fine!"
"Everybody's hearts are broken, some little, and some immensely, like mine."

"Seems to suit mine! Let's try joining my heart to yours."

As he joins his broken piece with hers,
With the broken piece kept in her deepest purse,

Like with the broken piece an another broken piece get joined as it was meant to,
She feels the sudden light spreading through.

From the heart, to the vains, and to the brain,
All the sufferings blending with each other's past pain,
No melancholy individually left remained.

Times passed, and the tape still didn't seem to loosen up!
Tje gentleman's heart blending with the wanderlust, never seemed to be away from her, or she would have given up.

Like a fine recipe, a blend, a mixture, so well, one couldn't separate or make out the hidden ingredients,
"What is it? Ah, what's the difference?"

"The blend seems like it's all one, it doesn't seem like two different things!"
Surprising how one person could give her life some new meanings.

From a rolling ball of dust, slowly into a soothing warmth of fire,
She could even warm the gentleman's coldest spot; No it's not a satire.

And as the gentleman lived all in with her, from a faded passing time to a happy persona that could make a moment stop,
Gentleman felt the warmth in her arms, as he slowly felt his temperature drop.

The healing nature of the gentleman made wanderlust stick to him.

And as the time passed by and the lights went dim,

They fell for each other, love was felt in the air,
The air that couldn't make fire stop, and could not freeze the cold-spotted affair.

As one evening, the gentleman asks the wanderlust,

"What's in me that's making you love me?"
"Ah," the wanderlust smiled, "you taped my heart yourself with yours, oh thee!"

The tape never loosened.

No legs to run away from him anymore, and she felt happy about it for the first time.

~THE GENTLEMAN