Trance

 

I’m in trance now after drinking from the cup of tiredness and gulping the wine of drowsiness.  The poetry doesn’t come, the story doesn’t get better, my heroine is not smiling, my protagonist is not crying – nor doing anything but the words come.  The words come one after the other like a drop following the drops from the clouds when it rains.  No, it is not drizzling but it is a down pour, cats and dogs. Oh, what should I do with those mosquitoes that sucks my blood and the lashes that wants to cover my eyes but the fingers that wants to keep typing words after words.  I have nil patience to read what I have written neither anybody but I write for I will die if I keep those content in my mind and my brain will burst and head will blow into two thousand pieces; the two hemisphere thousand each.  My stomach is bloated with the food I ate for dinner which just added more wine to the body in trance.  How could one explain the state of semi-state of sleepiness.  How many know that this is the state of ecstasy, you control your sleep and sit alone when the entire body wants to fall down anywhere and in any corner of the house and sleep, just sleep and do nothing. It is the state of ecstasy the god like state where you realize nothing is so romantic than sleeping undisturbed. O! Everything and anything you write in ecstasy make more sense for it is the true you that writes from within, it knows no lies, no dogmas, no moral, no ethics but the state of just being. The metal that rotates over my head, the blades that spines the air to keep me away from sweeting is one other tranquilizer that sings lullaby with the acoustic of the electromagnetic force.  I have no idea of writing more than five hundred words so I look at the bottom of my computer screen which gets increased slowly when I was normal but now, I see it is running wild.  I know I have to stop at some point of time and go to sleep for I cannot stay drunk with this drowsiness for a longer time.  It feels blessed when this word software underlines the words and sentences that needs correction with a comma or space to give or a space to delete, but now it is annoying.  There were lines and lines and lines in blue and red to correct, who cares.  It is not me who is writing; those are not my hands that is writing, it is that Indian or Greek or Egyptian God for writing who is putting words in to my mind and driving me crazy to type and type and type.  I am typing with my eyes closed for I care my least what I type as the divine that is responsible for writing is sitting on my lap and writing.  Okay Sir Mr. Lord of the Words I want to sleep please get up and get lost until next time for it has already crossed five hundred!!!

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