A different point of view

Over the past month, I have slammed down the brakes, and slowed down with work and life.

And in the lingering smell of burning rubber, I am watching life and people go by as I sit by the sidelines. It has been a long time, and I am surprised at how quickly I had forgotten what it was like to look at things from a different angle and from a different light.

A different point of view.

My heart and my mind had been blinded by the blur of the whirlwind that had been my last two years. But now, I see the clarity in the blur, magnified to the very pixels that those atoms are made of.

Two Sundays ago..

I was in a contemplative mood, so with a photograph and two poems in my hand, I spent the day taking busrides around the campus, travelling to places I have never been before.

It was cold and wet, and I was staring out the misty glass window, looking at the people and the traffic and the buildings. All you see is people rushing off somewhere, or hanging around with nothing better to do than to look and be seen.

Smiling plastic faces, worshippers of materialism. Weary faces, worn by money and the endless ritual of work work work.

It was so sad, just looking at how society has turned us all into slaves and walking dead.

Every night, as I lay down to rest, I pray that I would wake and find this all but a dream.

But my dreams are all turning into nightmares.

I dare not sleep.


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