who am i talking to?

madness resides above me now. there was a soft knock, when it first visited me. when i did not answer, because fear was present, it barged in without my permission. now my faith tells me there is a reason to all of these randomness, my hope asks me to dream about tomorrow when things will happens when the right time comes. time, they say, is an illusion. what is real? and so again, uncertainty seeps in, slowly at first, and then, barges in, like madness did the first time it invited itself to my kingdom.

and now?

now? now it resides above me, rent free. it never left. so in a way, all six of them did meet and never left. i collectively call it madness now.

so you never rest in your kingdom now?

there is no such word. or concept.

maybe you will reunite.

when death visits?

when death visits.

how is it? when one dies?

you’ll see. but you’ll only understand if you live first.

i am.

so wait a little longer.

i hate waiting.

why?

you know that feeling, when you are so done and tired and restless of waiting and all you end up doing is nothing but wait for a little longer. 

no.

its killing. its maddening. its not momentary. it eats you up. it makes you want to use that extra energy inside you you never knew existed within. it makes you want to do something. anything. tangible. 

what do you do then?

nothing. i wait a bit longer.

you should do something.

ofcourse, i know that. but its one of those moment when all you can do is wait. its a passage between what was, what is, and what could be. nothing can be done there in that passage. its passive.

sounds… maddening.

it is.

what is it like? for instance?

who am i talking to? myself? then who is the third person present here listening to our conversation? no one. some one?

…

…

the end.

it isn’t.