Tag: creative writing

  • The Kingdom Of Paradoxes And Absurdities

    The Kingdom Of Paradoxes And Absurdities

    The kingdom of paradoxes and absurdities was the place where bullying and arrogance reigned supreme, sovereign over vulgarity and stupidity. They wallpapered the walls of every place that held court in such a realm.

    Anything that could be imagined was both unreal and real at the same time. It could exist or not exist. Absurdity, however, was the master of the place. Thus, everything my logic deemed possible was tangible and predictable. In truth, it could neither take place nor be actualised in such sovereignty.

    I cannot say that I was dreaming, nor can I say that I was awake. In a state of shock and surrender of my ego, I could no longer even discern whether I was daydreaming or hallucinating. All I could say was what my sensations and perceptions made me feel in every part of my soul and heart, in every part of my body.

    Although I had firmly decided not to bend to the will of others, not to bow down or worship the conventions imposed on me persistently, I fell into a deadly trap—a kind of imprisonment, a state of captivity from which I could not free myself. Invisible chains that I felt and perceived in my body and heart held dominion over my life and my way of thinking.

    My jewellery box had been plundered. All my secrets had been revealed by indiscreet tongues. And my protection had vanished. It was as if I had become a defenceless flower in the midst of a threatening desert.

    I had to say goodbye to my version of myself, which was no longer alive. I had to say goodbye to all those visions that had deceived me falsely, when my naivety clouded my sight.

    In the kingdom of paradoxes and absurdities, I had to succumb and suffer. I had nowhere else to go. And the more I tried to escape, the more it seemed that this strange land expanded beneath my feet, preventing me from crossing its high and menacing walls. And what could the sky do but watch me, almost mocking me in an indifferent and cynical manner.
    Lisa

  • The Well Of Phantom Wishes

    The Well Of Phantom Wishes

    The well of phantom wishes
    Was the well of my disappointments
    Of all those illusions
    That had deceived me
    In a malevolent way
    With their allure
    And their way of
    Misleading me
    With fake smiles and phrases
    Like lines from a script
    But in truth, it was all fake
    Every single thing
    And every
    One I had known, glimpsed
    Were nothing but
    Delusional
    Realities
    Beneath
    A deception
    A cruel deception
    That dragged me down
    Into that well
    So deep and so dark
    That I could not glimpse
    Any
    Vision
    Any hope

    My tears were of no use, nor was my despair.
    My broken heart had shattered, like a crystal or stone ornament,
    its translucence and splendour reduced to dust and fragments,
    soiled by the cold ground, soaked in mud and decadent filth.
    That beauty I had once cherished within me
    had turned into a twisted transfiguration of my own reflection.

    What remained in my hands was dust and decay.
    I closed my eyes, and silence shrouded my thoughts,
    making them vague and fleeting like dark shadows
    that moved around me but I could never reach.

    One of my silver bracelets that shone like stars broke,
    and through its fractures, you could read my life’s illness,
    My malaise of living, my melancholic soul
    that had no peace and could find no place of salvation,
    lost among the clouds that darkened my mind.

    The pain was raining down on me like one of those cold and biting winter rains.
    Almost as if it wanted to scratch me and leave marks like painful and distressing memories that followed me wherever I went at any time.

    My sighs and sobs were mystified by that funeral silence of the endless night which had neither beginning nor end, and which wrapped me in its dark and misty cloak, almost to intoxicate me with its gloom and make me forget my infinite pain.
    Lisa

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