“She’s a mess of gorgeous chaos, and you can see it in her eyes.”

The world is supposed to be a sphere, without any corners. Fact, partially, and a paradox that made life seem simpler, and easier. It’s funny how the world has its own ways of fooling us, and funnier how we, superior as we may regard ourselves, always get fooled. We succumb to our fate, and accept it as if we’ve been living with it for quite long, no matter how hard it batters our soul.
But for how long? For how long will we continue to deceive our spirit into the familiar arena of anonymity and darkness? For how long will our bruises go unattended? For how long will we shut ourselves up? Forever? Maybe.
With a giant like life itself, forever doesn’t seem much scary. Promising, neither. Bespectacled fools we are, settling down with ignorance when we really were capable of turning the tables.
Talking of corners, the very sound of it makes me feel somewhat uncomfortable. It brings an image so vivid, wherein I feel like a caged bird, existing in some creepy yet mystical era, while panting since eternity, struggling hard, and yet I’m pushed deeper into it, till the picture finally fades out. I scream out to the world, but I barely manage above a whisper. All hope is lost, yet somewhere, that flicker glows continually.
The image seems like my favourite nightmare, if there’s ever a thing as such. And the most significant part is, it brings back memories; of people, and of corners. Corners of darkness, veiled with hypocrisy, corners of familiar lies, corners of unfairness, and corners of divinity. I feel like a lost wanderer, unaware of life’s surprises and shocks, promises and responses, chilling to the spine.
But these corners are forever there, the ones that pierce hard, and the ones that heal. The rain washes away the pain, but the corners, never. We survive in these corners, never. We survive in these corners, unscathed by the harshness of reality, putting our fears to rest, and soon, the escape becomes our dependence. We run, we turn to those corners. The corners haunt us yet they shield our terror. We scream, but are left unheard. And when we turn to look back, all that grins at us is a world full of corners.


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