7th heaven

"india is drowning" he said, smoking from his cigarette and the music from the laptop filled his senses. "i felt it then yet here i am knee deep in pointless self loathing". here it comes she thought, another diatribe how the fucking great things in life were missed by him. and that the world around him exists in superficial boredom that he could not care less about, her included. the worst part was that she agreed with him. she longed for him to look at her the way he looked at that photo.

he launched into his drivel, about the amazing conversation he had which made him forget the past, the future and the present. he was just in the moment looking at her, listening to her. he stopped for a bit. what would you do he asked if your every instinct, every gut feeling made you feel that you should be there with her and not here. how would you feel when you realize that every thought and all the senses were caught in that moment and the only way to feel better was to relive the moment. feel natural again, when you feel so amazing with a person everything else begins to feel like an insane lie.

she knew that his obsession would falter into a broken man built again by her. yet she waited for him to obsess one last time for her, write her a poem and immortalize her beauty like he did. she drank whatever was left of that vodka. as she pushed herself against the couch, she felt like she was standing at the edge of a volcano desperate to feel something. humanity lost what is real and she wanted to feel something , anything .. that she made the same mistakes over and over again. fucking till the end of time.