Dead-ends

I haven’t thought of it lately. I’ve let the butt ends of my cigarettes burn a hole into my heart, but I haven’t let it bother me lately. This slakeless gloom could not get a hold of me. I’ve been keeping strong. I’m doing what I should. I’ve been learning to make a hearth out of the foe-fire. The fire had almost destroyed me. But I’ve learnt to play with fire. I’ve learnt to roll it into smoking papers and turn it into smoke- smoke that goes unnoticed into the fog. What happens to the smell? Don’t ask me! The senses are dilapidated. What you see is not always what it is. There is no real enlightenment. Enlightenment is blurred. Meanings are broken. Vision remains within a big question mark. The moment you think that you see into things, you wake up from the dream. And, reality is a nightmare. It is a nightmare in which you have a choice but your hands are tied. Here, you are allowed to think; execution is not put up with. Thoughts are highly volatile- the fire rushes through your veins, into your head. And bam! You feel an explosion. No! This explosion doesn’t kill you. It becomes a drug. It kills your senses. It kills your hopes. It kills your thoughts. So, I haven’t thought of it lately.