Rocks

I had a few cigarettes with a couple of friends at the parking lot just behind Chino’s.  We were whining at each other, in a way, our miseries had a field day.  We also discussed smashing-plates therapy, the law of thermodynamics and the futility of bottling up aggression.

There were some rocks lying on the ground, that got chipped off from some discarded hollow blocks.  I picked up about three of them and threw them at the wall.  The rocks easily shattered when it hit the concrete to bits that scattered in mid-air.  Falling to the ground.  Impossible to piece together again.

I felt like those rocks.

***

I am starting to get embarrassed of the fact that it takes a little bit more time and gab for my friends to cheer me up these days.  I have been smoking incessantly, chasing the pack.  A rush of helplessness.

Was not sure whether it was easier to look away indignant or have a resigned smile.

Last night we had this whole conversation about nothingness and detachment.  How does one go about it?  Is there such a thing which can trivialize the insanity of passion and the things which tie us to the world?

In my mind I want to lie down and shrivel and die.  But I love life and as Sherad puts it, “The beauty of problems”.  I still feel compelled to wake up the next day and go about a routine, so that I may live.

The fight goes on.