Stories

Stories

  • Submitted By: subsri
  • Date Submitted: 07/18/2011 3:16 AM
  • Category: Psychology
  • Words: 314
  • Page: 2
  • Views: 199

Un-real
(What I write. The heights of exaggeration)
The heat wafted over my skin. The world seemed to nod to the violent silences. I followed as it moved stealthily and in the same pace as if it knew where it was heading. The circles made my senses spin in its own direction. The mind flew in the other and everything ceased to shatter in every direction that was not right. I shut my eyes to the unreality or was I assuming so? I did not want to confirm my fears but had to open my eyes to succumb to the endless movement.
My body felt heavy and fulfilled. The repulsiveness to spring upon remained though. I could not move and one side of the torso was reluctant to obey the other side.
Loneliness made its grasp and choked upon me as it were my enemy. Even when it was the case, I embraced the lost friend and let him torture me. He continued till I began to find him pleasant.
I began collecting all my thoughts that were hidden away in black vague shadows. I drifted to the place I never wanted to be but had to go. That was the norm of the moment.

Real
(What actually happens)
It was a hot afternoon and I was lying on the bed looking up the fan. I was following the rotation of the wings till my eyes and head hurt. I kept doing this because of boredom and having nothing to do.
The lunch was very heavy that afternoon and I had ‘kattufied’ moru kozhambu and everything that makes you sleep and because of this, I was not even able to move my body.
I was very bored and nothing was helping me at the moment. This all led to the feeling of loneliness.
I began to dream and drifted away to sleep.

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