Anatomy Of a Failure.

Failure. Who is this guy? I'll give you my account as to who a failure really is. He is one hell of an ambitious person.He is capable, but his capabilities are clipped...painfully so.But above all he is a bloody egoistic bastard, cringing relentlessly over his loss.You might wonder as to why I'm being so strong while describing this...this breed of humans.That's because he might be slightly unfortunate but the sheer magnitude of his own faults overshadows his extravagant claims of a luckless life. The word luckless, though I'm not sure it exists, is what I'd call his cover for all of his own mistakes. An inexplicably mangled mind,to which the word "focus" is incomprehensible, lies beneath his skull.Why mangled...?Well, he does have qualities you know...its not as if god would send in a man after making him pay a visit to the Sphinx.But his qualities turn hostile parasites when they bind up his own mind, knotting beyond recognition.Imagination, for example...few men on earth can imagine a spoon in their hands when there is none there.But when he keeps imagining and hallucinating about the future, about his dreams...it is bound to push him away from the main tract of life.Pushing him towards oblivion and once he is precariously close to being absorbed by the void...he'll think,"Whence came this?!" Wat a fool.More so the reason why he should be abused.A man who doesn't plant a seed and hopes of fruition,is naught but scum.


The main quality...or should we call it "flaw" of a failure is that he accepts his own identity...that of a failure.Else why would a man fail if he finds success behind every failure?The battle is not lost until you think that it is time to surrender.The failure surrenders even before the battle begins,so there is no chance for even martyrdom.


In today's world, ofcourse other complex and intricate factors come into play while sketching the anatomy of a failure. Peer pressure is one, familial pressure is another...But looking closely at all of these minor stuff,(which in entirety forms a much larger picture)it all boils down to the crooked timber of humanity...ego issues.Subdue your ego and you'll get immuned to all of this.Chuck your bloated ego and you go from a bum with a reserve of negative energy lying in nothingness to a knight with a world of positive energy, reaching for the stars.But this, ofcourse, lies in the discussions pertaining to the anatomy of a successful man.


That's a failure through my eyes...the eyes of another failure.Its miserable when a failure gives sound advice to another failure but his own advice falls into his deaf ears.I'm a creature living dead.(Hey now don't be scared!)Because a failure who acknowledges the anatomy of a failure and refuses to change, is not a failure... he is FAILED.


Thank you.

Fleeting visions...

The year has reached the peak of its youth...
The seasons are rolling by,and all ive done is sit agape,
at the wind whispering to me,
at the raindrops telling their stories,
at the leaves rustling...gossipping about a past so illustrious...
a musty smell rises up,
as the quenched earth breathes out...
like votive candles...wavering in spring's last sigh...


It has been a long time since ive touched you...
the electric spark...the indescribable sensation...
lingers in every corner of my memory palace...
unwilling to fade into oblivion...


I felt like that survivor,
brought back from the depths of the Atlantic,
where the line between dream and darkness blur rs beyond recognition,
when i felt your breath on my face...
when i held your arm...and knew
that the Elements may falter but my grip will not...
when i knew that this 5 minutes of passion would be immortalised forever...


Oft i sit on my couch
and the golden times touch my mind,
like silver curtains rustling in autumn's own breath...
And as the musty smell wafts though the air...
I catch a fleeting glimpse...of a maiden running,
in a forgotten land...in a space that is a void to mortal eyes,

A flash of legs and a flutter of angel eyes...
a golden halo...too devine for mortal eyes to rest upon,
painted upon god's own child...

With each step that she took away from me,
with each word that she spoke...
my heart crackled in its own pyre...
in a flame of uncontrolled desire...passion...
waiting for the flame to be quenched,
by a touch of her lips...elixir of my life,
waiting for the embers to die down,
by the sweet nothings whispered into my ear,
waiting for the pain to ease away,
in the shade of her hair...
an impeccable nightfall...that kindles the light for a passion-filled dawn...


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Okay folks...i did come back earlier than expected...but im still not fully...back, as in still got exams to take care of...this is a piece i wrote in my school...don't have anything better to do there...looks good...esp a certain anon visitor would be pleased...Ahem!

be back soon!