|
BANG BALLS
FREEDOM OF SPEECH NOTHING SHOULD BE IMPOSED
IDEAS NOT LEECHED ONLY CREATIVELY COMPOSED |
|||
 Flickr Archives
February 2005
March 2005
April 2005
May 2005
June 2005
July 2005
October 2005
November 2005
December 2005
January 2006
February 2006
March 2006
April 2006
May 2006
June 2006
July 2006
August 2006
September 2006
October 2006
November 2006
December 2006
January 2007
February 2007
March 2007
April 2007
May 2007
June 2007
July 2007
August 2007
October 2007
November 2007
December 2007
January 2008
February 2008
March 2008
April 2008
May 2008
June 2008
August 2008
October 2008
November 2008
December 2008
February 2009
March 2009
May 2009
June 2009
July 2009
August 2009
September 2009
October 2009
November 2009
January 2010
February 2010
April 2010
May 2010
June 2010
October 2010
November 2010
December 2010
Links
Jasmine
|
Thursday, October 29, 2009
When The Cold Wind Blows. It reads 2:40am on the clock. 0240hrs. 20 minutes before 3 in the morning. 40 minutes after 2 in the morning. Time is told in so many ways, it's a wonder that man never gets confused with 'it'. The weather is chilly. No, it isn't pouring. It isn't even drizzling. But it just is cold. Chilly to be exact. The temperature, rather, lack thereof sends a chill down the spine. You'd think that switching off the fan or donning a sweater would help. But this cold, isn't a cold that can penetrate the skin. It's a cold that's emitted from what we scientifically call, cellular membrane. It comes from within. No, you won't experience frostbite at your extremities. You experience it within your body. You heart seems to have been set in water that's slowly freezing to ice. Each beat is slower than the other, and it worries you. It's probably just mental - that's what we all want to think when we feel sick. Bodily aliments aren't really physical but psychological, you want to believe that; you will believe that. It's a fine line between a real illness and one that's just concocted and executed in the mind. You really can't tell what it is now. Cold, just so cold. A hot cup of tea? Maybe milo or coffee. But no it doesn't help. It never does help with inward chills. Maybe a stick? If one won't work magic, two just might. But no, the glowing ember still proves futile. Hiding under the sheets? Pulling it right up to your neck, just below your chin. You're supposed to feel warm. Well, not warm per se; but warmer for sure? You just don't. And you're starting to feel as though your life and soul are slipping away from you. You want to panic. You want to cry for help. But it's a sense of futility that tells you not to. No one can save you now. No drug can. And so your body finally gives in to the chills. Your eyelids fall shut. Your breathing deepens. There's nothing else you can do. It's all in the stars, beyond you as all things are. On nights as such, only love can work the miracle you want, crave and wish for. |
||