Saturday, February 22, 2014

You can go

I ought to water the plants

Oh, don't you? The plants should be missing you

They certainly do

More silence

I am wondering why my plants are so sensitive to human presence, I meant, my absence. Have you come across such plants elsewhere, love?

Did your mind just choose to say 'presence' instead of absence?

Apparently it did

I haven't come across such a mind, oops, I meant plants. What do they call it, freudian slip, eh? 

What sort of a mind?

One that rarely fumbles under the weight of complicated processes

But I did fumble

Which complicated mental processes was I referring to?

You tell me

We know what they are

Do we?

Yes. We do. Complicated processes like juggling, writing simultaneously with both hands and the like. It boils down to handling more than one thing/person at a time. 

Yeah, I do remember talking about it sometime

What did I just tell you?

Some more silence

But the plants!

Yeah! The plants can't stand your absence though they seem to be able to take your obsession with them.

My obsession with them? 

Yes

It's just that I love them!

Well, there isn't much of a difference. One can't differentiate between the neurotransmitter release pattern of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and love..  Honey, you can go 

Can I? 

Yeah. 

And he let her go. 

Monday, February 3, 2014

Chemical reality

'Chemicals govern our actions' - you tell me,
Disowning your actions, affection and anger,
Distancing yourself from me,
Assigning the task of handling me to your chemicals,
Evading my questions,
Indulging in those bromidic questions,
About the world and the human mind,
For which you never could and never will find the answers.

Our minds are drenched in chemicals,
That we seek - the hedonists we are,
No different from addicts,
Only it isn't  a material addiction.
You try and recede from the addiction,
Only to yield to it more frantically.

You quetch that I don't see through your eyes,
That I'm full of hope,
That I refuse to grow up.

I did see through your eye,
The sight isn't pretty,
But there's one scene I'd want to cherish,
Those spells when our chemical cycles synchronise,
When we forget why we live,
When we forget to live,
When nothing beyond 'us' seems real.