A sacrifice

He won’t make it.

He’ll never get through, he knows he won’t. With every trudge of his foot down the path; he knew he wouldn’t make it. Each second; each grasp of breath he takes now, could be his last. No, he knows they will be his last.

He can’t explain it, can’t elaborate the feelings in his gut. Controversial instincts clash in his body. Brain, Heart, Muscle; all, battling for control.

Heart thumping, sending bloodless oxygen spiraling through capillaries of wood, to give and take, to give and take. Always a reason for giving, always a reason to give. For every choice there is a reason. Also a consequence.

Muscles constricting arteries, dilating veins; vice versa. Simultaneously. Spasms jittering fiber, bone and sense through cells. Moving, respiring, living, for the last time. Spluttering responses, letting instinct run a lost race.

Brain shifting through, each memory, each feeling, categorizing each memoir, trying to see sense, searching an escape to live out an alternative. Analyzing each discarded possibility, repeatedly; obsessively.

Each of his strength tantalizingly dances with his weakness in a time without space, in a place where there is no light, no darkness. He walks mechanically to his destination.

Never has he felt this desperate, this dire for him to lay it all bare.
Never has he marched to battle without a plan.
To dance along with an unknown beat.

Yet he continues, plunging into unchartered waters. Marching through an unknown abyss of darkness. Shameless guilt set upon the path.

For her. All for her. Her; the wearer of probing eyes. The sniffer of problems, He did this all for her. For her to smile, to laugh.

Even if it’s without him. He’d give away everything for her; even his life. He’d sacrifice his soul for her.

The only chance for her to live again, was for him to give a sacrifice on the altar of happiness and pride. His happiness for hers, his dignity for her life.

He’d have to give away a part of his heart. He knows deep inside, a knowledge which supports the chances of him making it through were slim to none. Anyway, if he was able to go through, he won’t be able to be who he was. A runner, a basketball player.

He’d be less of who he was. less of who he had become.

Ironic, through out his short 15 years of life, he’d never been so keen on making his sister laugh.
Till now.

Random sproutings

"Once upon a time..."
A beautiful beginning to a tantalizing tale, a classic adored by others, fantasized by children and humoured by adults. Humans selfishly dwell on these stories, forgetting reality for a while. Even if it's just for an hour or a few minutes, you sometimes sit down and ponder on mindless questions, yearning for our own happy ending.

Happy endings are never coming, does cartoons are lies. trechorously stringing all of us along for a ride, flaunting something we'll never have. And we'll yearn for it even more, deluding ourselves of reality.

As the caged bird screams, we dream.

We dream of sunsets by the beach where we'd picnic, dream of a whole life filled with joy and delight. Masking our own reality, not knowing without reality there can be no truth. But we happily do so.

Believing a hoax.
Trusting a lie.

for ignorance is bliss.