so so soooo utterly random - 'in vain'

It began with one thought that a friend put in my head today...Sometimes words fail you.
Led to - Sometimes your emotions fail you. Sometimes your idiosyncrasies seem alien to you. Sometimes your broken spirit betrays you. Sometimes you can’t explain it. Is it catharsis? I don’t know
Is it a turmoil? Mabbe
It’s exhausting. Yes
It’s pointless. Yes.
But can you evade it. I tried.
It caught up.

The world around you doesn’t stop.
You delude yourself into believing, it’ll pass.
You’re stuck in a timeless whirlpool. It sucks you in.
It’s a fierce battle. You and your …I don’t how to address it (words fail me).. I reckon we can call it 'inane shadow' (I don’t know why, just.) Mabbe b’coz it’s an extension and reinforcement of the phantoms inside and is desperate for an outlet. So offshoot it and we keep it as the inane shadow. You could also call it diabolic shadow..coz it sure as hell is viscious and seems possessed but i prefer 'inane' coz it's vague, it's frivolous, it's foolish, it's loony, it's quixotic..it's indispensible. Wtf ..call it wat u want.
It trips you
It fails you
It confuses you
It tugs on your strings
It breaks you down into miniscule atomic pieces. You never gather yourself together apiece again. Ever.

Is it evil? No
Does it revel in sadism? Mabbe

Does it mock you? Yes
Does it nurse your pain? Yes

Is it empty? No
Is it prosaic? Yes

Is it a vagabond? No
Is it wayward? Yes.

Is there any rationale to it? No.
Is it idealistic? Mabbe.

Is it tangible? No
Does it feel real? Yes

It’s not strange.
Yet. It doesn’t seem worthy of existence.
Yet. You become dependant on it. Like a parasite.

Mabbe I don’t make sense.
But it doesn’t make sense.
It doesn’t seem to feel the need to justify itself.

Do you still excuse it for sneaking up on you and throwing you off guard and for failing you? Yes.

There’ll be no better time
There’ll be no better way

Call it absurd. Call it nothingness. Call it figment of my imagination. Call it tedious. Call it my stubbornness. Call it wat you may. You know that YOU too have been dependant on it. Many a times. And YOU will continue to seek it's presence. YOU will continue to take refugee. YOU will continue to curl up n lie there, waiting for it to irk you..again.

I’m still at ground zero. Running in circles. Talking gibberish. Self-deluding. Still indulging in idle chat. Still surviving. Still slipping. Still breathing. Still musing. Still pmsing. Still reading. Still working. Still cooking rhetorical questions. Still making my storehouse of nostalgia. Still faking. Still listening. Still playing weeping willow on a loop. Still fakking coping with monotony. Still choosing…
Still figuring it out.

As an afterthought: (like mint after a complicated meal)
Heh ..even though I still haven’t figured out how to cope with it, I just absolutely absolutely love the way Depeche Mode fakks with this dithering state of being, with our friend, the inane shadow. D. Mode ignores “it’s” presence and continues to assert with nonchalant conviction:
“Don’t say you’re happy; out there; without me. I know, u can’t be. Coz it’s no good.”

If only…