Happy Birthday

They had known each other for over six years. The first two was friendship. The next one was obsessive love and sex. The fourth was a disaster. The fifth and sixth...were different for both.

So it was her twenty sixth birthday. She was drinking cocktails and eating hash brownies. At the stroke of midnight she kissed a stranger, vowed her love for him and forgot when she kissed her girl friend.

So right after the party noises faded out. She signed in to facebook. Her page was flooded with birthday wishes. Boring. They are said the same thing.

And then somewhere hidden between the zillion other "Happy Birthdays" was one that read - "Happy Birthday Bitch. Hope you receive a much needed pounding tonight." She stared at it for a while. She thought it was the daze. But then her girl friend read it out aloud. She shut up immediate.

What did she do then? Well. She  moved her fingers delicately over the awesome keys of her macbook. She typed - Thank you.

Worthless pondering

As I drank my morning coffee, pretty much around noon, I remembered last night's dream. It was horrible, it was torture. Even just to think about what I saw. Last night in my dream I saw I had cancer.

I wonder where that came from? I wonder if I am falling into some sort of self loathing hell? Where no amount of laundry can clean the disease that is proliferating inside you.

God know why this happened but I remember loosing strands of my hair. I saw my father shocked, scared, saying that it's because of my smoking. But what's the point, I had smoked all I could and nothing could be done now. I had cancer.

And i guess it's true when they say that you'd never understand unless you got it. What do I say, a dream is as real as it gets.

So where are we right now? Is this the dream or is the dream the real world? What is our real state of existence?

Working on my Schizophrenia project, I wondered, if we were all Schizophrenics. If what we call normal is abnormal and "their" world more real than we potentially believe it to be.

Are we living a myth. The myth of life, created by God knows who? So if that is the case then why worry, why be so tensed when it's all going to be over and maybe then you and I will finally be in the real world.

The real world that is better or worse. For joys or for disappointment. Why are we killing ourselves every minute when we all know that one day we shall die.

What can we do to live? How to live? No one taught us this. No one knows about this. Why is death so scary when we don't even know what it is to live.

I don't know. I wonder. I wonder if this is going anywhere? Yet I want to see things through. Why? Why not just be satisfied with these incomplete fragments. It's like a puzzle that no one can assemble. So why try?

Will there ever be any answers. Will there ever be a point when we will have what we want? Who can tell? Who knows? I guess no one.