Originally Published September 3, 2011

“Lightning flashes of insight into the mirth of a dark sky…”

The joy is in feeling eternal.

As it starts to work on me, it blinds me from the trouble ahead.  The light seems clearer and shinier, and for some unknown reason I dare not try to explore, I feel 100%.  Bright Colors are nice, but this calm is essential…

The first moments come unexpected.  My body feels flushed.  There is heat building up from within and it slowly seeps through my skin.  Before I know it, the warmth has taken over my body and if I didn’t know better, I would swear I were floating.

An overwhelming calm wraps me like a blanket.  I feel safe, but more importantly I feel as if I could completely be secure about the future, because I think that as long as I can sustain this feeling, the rest of the pieces will simply fall into place.  It is an amazing feeling, because regardless of the tumultuous events happening around me – the thunder destroying me and the monsoon soaking me – I feel no worry; I am safe, as if in a womb.  There is no worry.

Though my body remains still, I feel as though my mind has reached places few of us have seen or been to.  I feel as though I’ve felt something only the Saints were supposed to feel.

But I hold no grudge.  And I repudiate selfishness and egoism.  So I don’t intend to make this feeling solely mine.  I intend to share it with the world; to allow light to radiate through me; to inspire the fellow who thought about surrendering.

I feel no heaviness, and I feel no weight. I am full – not an empty vessel – but there is no strain needed to lift me up. I am weightless.  I float.  I am above the ground and above mediocrity. I am high above. It’s a feeling of eternity.

This is the feeling I felt, and which blinded me. This is what I attempted to sustain…..


But I couldn’t.  The moment was over.  The high became a low. The calm was suddenly shaken by a storm.

With eyes wide open – gazing straight ahead at the dismal future and the ensuing struggle – I realize now I was duped.

It wasn’t eternity: it was deceitfulness.  It wasn’t empowerment: It was weakness. It wasn’t happiness: it was merely a sedative. And finally, it wasn’t life: it was just – and forever nothing more – a drug.


A sensation. A high. An alternative reality. But it was a drug.

Now it is gone.  And now, in this erratic calmness – in this soothing emptiness – at the bottom of the barrel – after the smoke has cleared and the snow has melted – at the last hour – in this place of quiet, I reflect:

I was just getting high. I made no progress.  I sedated myself….and now that is all gone.

The future is bright; but the road is covered in shards of glass, and I forgot my shoes inside a wilderness…

…at a quick glance…

She has a “beautiful” face, but the word itself is misleading. It isn’t what first comes to mind when someone says it; it isn’t the normal, “shallow” sense of the word. There’s another kind of beauty I’ve been able to notice in some people, because it is more than aesthetic beauty. I guess it’s what people normally and rather mindlessly, I think, refer to as “inner-beauty”. But I’ve actually seen it, or at least i think I have…Actually, I haven’t really seen it, per se; I’ve just wished and desired to see it so passionately, that I’ve begun purposefully and consciously seeing it in any girl who I’ve felt fits the mold ..But this time, I actually saw it.

There’s a quiet, almost imperceptible sadness in her eyes, but it reads more like Quiet Dignity – Reserved Humility. Like a paradox, they shine bright and almost shimmer with intensity, and opened so wide as they are, her eyelashes curl at the tips, giving her a doll-like face…On the surface, they look anything but sad; Joy is what they say. Yet there’s something that the slightest moment of lingering reveals. Looking at them – I mean really looking into those Almond Shaped Pearls – is like looking inside a Halo: there’s something mystical, almost unreal, inside that invites you in as it whispers some kind of Divine Secret. And therein lies that sadness…or rather, that Humility.

She pretends nothing, and her Eyes tell you so. There’s pure kindness in there; Love; Empathy. She is unmarred by the colours that adorn other girls’ faces; she needs no decoration. Her eye lids are soft – they remind me of funeral palls gently coming down on her eyes to hold back tears…But she’s not really sad. her lips make sure of that. There’s a faint smile which, like her eyes, holds yet another secret.

She is untroubled by Pain, though; that’s important to remember. She is Pure. I see sadness because I cannot comprehend her simplicity – her willingness to admire the simple things: the birds’ tweets, the breeze’s swooshing, because I envy that ability.

Her voice is secure and reassuring. She says everything with poignancy and certainty, as if it is a fact. She is sure. But she never pretends to be right. Everything is a big Guess – She’s just an avid Guesser. She loves life. She loves the Real Life: The Sound, The Feel, The Touch of Things; The Patterns in the Sky; The Smell Outside; The Lack of Concrete and Steel; The Abundance of Green Meadows and Large Mountains; The song of Otters; The Dance of Lions; The Cycles of Butterflies; she simply Loves Life. And her voice always says so.

And all this makes her Beautiful. Her transgressions too. Her questions and her demands. Her risks. The way she dresses  – without a care; with no hang-ups whatsoever. Her Priorities: the Preservation of Purity and Beauty at all costs…

I’ve seen her. And she is Beautiful. Alas, Where has She Gone?