I can never decide if I want to be someone who cares,
or someone who wishes to be powerful
Power...the sweet opiate rush of painlessness
numb
No one, nothing can effect me.
If I care, thousands of neurons fire in me
It burns... Hurts too...
It's ablaze.
The glimmers, warm, like last glow of coal on winter nights.
Alive still.
My dadi during her depression would speak of a 'bhoot'
which would entangle her legs and she would fall.
I seem to have a 'bhoot' on me...
to be entangled in choices
to fall flat on your face.
Save face? Hell I am thankful to the 'bhoot'!!!
To be possessed enough to fall a thousand times over...
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