Absurd Life – In Search of an Ordinary Face

The whirlwind is transforming me into some monochromatic smokes. The thorns are no more pinching me but I could very clearly see flowers turning into needles. The abyss where I dwell is designing my existence and my voice is slowly fading away like the never ending murk. The wanderer is moving ahead in search of light…

Life is absurd; it’s unpredictable yet so very alive. The moment the sun goes down, there’s another night. The silence settles down but the chaos inside never leaves us. Sometimes there’s heat, sometimes there’s cold but the vapors rising from those pain keeps lingering on.

The absurdity increases and madness overcome everything. Everyday is a battle. It’s no waterloo, no world wars but something more than that. Your brain stops functioning, your heart throbs more and your existence craves for something. There is an itch, there is cry and then there is that struggle for survival.

The sweat from your body makes you look ugly; your spectacles makes you look like a nerd and you feel like dirt. The invisibility increase, the pain spreads like venom throughout your spines.

Absurd things, unfriendly stares, anger and a mute thunder occupies your galaxy. People look like demons, cars and buses like lethal weapons, the skyscrapers appears like predators. There’s no logic, there’s nothing that rational enough. There’s only a long deep introspection.

There are masks available everywhere. The meaning of life keeps changing. The night bites you, nightmares keep you awake and the morning sun torture your skin. Everybody is smart, good looking, efficient. No one is imperfect, ugly and unintelligent. There’s no room for madness, but there’s enough space for the greedy and the ruthless. The prostitutes sell themselves, the politicians keep fighting, poor writers and poets keep penning illogical quotes and the world keeps wheeling.

Almost every street is crowded, almost every place is diluted. There is a smell of lingering curse, there is nothingness everywhere. The disconnected prose is nonsensical, the metaphors seems meaningless. The memoirs written by great people are sitting unattended. The coffins of dead poets and musicians must be rotting somewhere. The sunshine beckons freedom, the night exude curse but the world remains the same. Foolish thoughts of a whimsical man are like a mental asylum in action. There is no space for absurdity. Facts, figures, statistics makes you stronger, logical and a tough person. There’s no place for people who talks everything in metaphors and similes.

Life is beautiful, life is logical. Everybody is creating something or the other; everybody is playing their role well. Everybody is a celebrity, everybody is a rock star but everybody can’t flaunt an ordinary face. The mask never leaves them, the curse lingers on…

(Meaningless Prose – Just Ignore)


  1. Intense! Always remember to find your peace and keep it, sailor!