paper aeroplane.the paper aeroplane crashed but not qualifying as a tragedy.paper aeroplane.
screaming her silent satiated goodbye for an intangible impulse, that promptly faded. the death creed by tacit assent
was god requiring permission to die - an engimatic powerplay in mutual affirmation of worth, existence, space, gravity
(and for complicity in His death: disempowering freedom) with the weight of corrosive unbridled dreams, glory of violent schisms and detachment:
the caprice of emotions relinquishing to unfettered amorality. the human burden lacked conviction and
erffa: the december war.she anticipated that spectacular december storm, when the rain brushed her life in liberal streaks of gray. she was resolutely insistent, despite the futility of her campaign, standing against the vicious lashing- staring determinedly at the pummeling cannon raindrops and the swirling formation of aggressive clouds, hiding her growing shivers in that childlike stubborness to outlast her designated foe.erffa: the december war.
it was only after her father rescued her in the evening from the numbing coldness (with neither of the adversaries of the imaginary war having showed any prior sign of yielding,) and in the security of her blanket and her father's
erffa: stillborn pre-dawn sky.she revealed her urgent desires through her mumbles, her eyes avoiding the curious gazes around her by staring at her own fingers that were clasping one another. but it was not out of shyness, nor guilt. it was only hesistance and doubt borne out of cold, calculative and deliberated pragmatism: because the moment she could grasp upon her wish, she had to relinquish everything. a pyrrhic victory, that was the payment for dreaming (and attaining) the impossible.erffa: stillborn pre-dawn sky.
so her dreams remained in the domain of slumber, where control and direction were not entirely of her prerogative. so often, she would remain motionless, enthralled in her
morning before five.we embraced the moshpit culture to subsume our unconventional thoughts and became anarchists by deliberate design. we cheer along with the rah-rah boys and their telegenic shibboleths because we thought we should belong. its only at two am of our insomnia-driven nocturnal conversations when we will stumble upon esoteric revelations, but the gods always break the sky into dawn to hamper our nighttime genius because their monopoly on truth must be mantained. we hypothesized that schizophrenia is a metaphysical accident because an extra soul was allocated to a body, and we learn of friends who killed themselves thinking that they were the additimorning before five.
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