To be or not to be!

Am I an artist? I never thought of me as an artist. But then, now I think, I maybe one. I could be one anyways. If I try harder with my photography or my writing or both, I can make good art. And if I could and I didn't, then that would be sacrilege!

Bug.

A bug bit me in the morning and I squashed it; and I forgot about it. Now it's midnight and I remember my past. Back in those days, I was a bug. I was despised and then I was squashed by a man. I turned into a man and the man turned into a bug. Now I can feel myself turning into a bug!

Existential crisis.

Existential crisis.
Again!
I am a dog with existential crisis.
In a cage. Born into domestication.
Even my younger dreams had me in cages.
I hadn't met a wild born stray dog yet, then.
Now I see them a lot. Some of their visions have swept into my dreams.
I can now dream things I haven't experienced yet.
I am a caged dog with existential crisis.

Happily ever after?

I saw a movie about love - and I loved it. It didn't have a happily ever after, unlike many love stories. 

I was asked a question, if I would die for love. My first response - why should someone die for love? I mean isn't it ironic that such a pure sweet emotion like love should evoke thoughts of death? But then I thought, it's a good reason to die for, isn't it? I wouldn't know, yet!

Hell yeah!

Imagination is the cruelest punishment a man can be bestowed upon. A curse, it is, thought the man. It was getting ready to burst out of him and he knew he could not control the urge anymore. However, he also knew that if indeed he is going to tell everyone what he thinks of, then that would certainly mean his death; and the current rulers were extremely notorious in the ways they torture and kill people.

Epilogue:

"Fuck you man, you must have been stupid to tell people to be nice to others! And the son of God thing was epic!"

"Well it did end up being epic!"

"Oh yeah! Where are you now? Epic my ass!"

"Yeah yeah rub it on! By the way, I really didn't know there was a heaven! Fuck!"

"What the fuck! No more weed for you!"

As you sow, shall you reap!

Three days after his murder, he woke up. He was in a dingy cupboard like room/box. Oh fuck! he thought, this must be another one of those medieval torture things.

He tried to get out, started scraping at the walls. And then he heard some movement outside.

Someone opened the box. And...

Oh shit! It was that girl he slept with the night before they caught him to 'murder' him. And the this one was so adamant that she has stayed back to ask for the the payment. Fuck no, she's in love him.

He ran; like hell!

Sanctum.

Trails down your memory, there is a sacred lane;
It  is not a secret, yet no one enters the lane.
How far? How far? : one asks,
But no one answers the call.
Not anymore is it open;
No one heeds the call.
Yet it is, so sacred,
Enter at your own risk.