Small Cruelties

Sm both cruelties Maybe this isnt real; maybe it is simply me unable to wake up from a grotesque, life story-scarring dream. But, as I look around, wide awake, sweeping my fingers across the cold beige padded walls, I realize that this was just me, fooling myself to consolation. This unjustness is all too real. Im confined inside these hostile four walls. I recall scenes from movies, the instances when little children communicate pop egress kidnapped, and they are heard wailing, I just wanna go home. Sometimes, I wish I could just explode out of my vapidness and scream the same thing. Only the fact is- this was no movie. This isnt one where the kid escapes and returns home, or receives rescued. This is where he decays himself in the mark of delusion and abandonment. This is where every mean solar twenty-four hours of my existence breathes into a dungeon. The repetitive, impossible seam of reality. Every day, I think; Im done scrolling back to my past- to that breathtakingly moving brass section of Ashiya. But its like an opiate; it slowly drains me out of my own will and into the appall vortex of retrospect. Though my memory seemed to be losing its strength day by day, somehow an atrocious hunger, vengeful and virulent, leads me back to that powerful image.

I was a schoolgirlish and ambitious man- filially bonded to all my people, turbulently interwoven to those who mattered. I took life in poetic and philosophical terms, with every moment creation a wise unless witty choice of Mother Nature. I was fulfilled; everything I wanted was almost always at heart my r each. My best friend, Rahul, was my anchor. ! He and I were a family, and we shared all our ideas indiscriminately, and put mass rebellion with good, cornfield violence. He was an quick-witted man, with a mentality that arrogantly sliced its way by every tender moment in my life. Then at that place was Ashiya- the Noor of my eye. Painfully beautiful, thats what she was. She was an angel amongst us mortal beings, with a golden nimbus skirting around her obsidian curls. She had a face that...If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website: BestEssayCheap.com

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