Authenticity, that’s what I’m looking for.
No money. No Ideal.
I’m looking for love or just something
I don’t know what I’m looking for…
I’m happy that I’m miserable
Maybe my dilemma is that I’m looking for why I’m happy being depressed
(Ramblings of a drunk)
I know who I am but straying from who I am is the scary part
There is more to explore, there is more to love…
There is more to this I am convinced of that
But I am a mutually assured destructive and I will present to you unedited portions of myself and this is a rambling of a drunkard
But I think consciousness is overrated and I’m lost completely in the thought of who I am but I know for a fact
That there are no answers here only more questions
Bare my thoughts and strip them to nudity
And you’ll see how superficial beauty marks ravage this body…
I’m unedited.
First thought, only thought…. what is this feeling doing here?
A scientific rationale anyone?
No measurements, just sublime form.
And I love the thought of possibility but there is no possibility here
Only hereditary ennui
This lump in my mouth cancerous or just an absurd structure?
I present to you a holy clown,
Unproportioned.
Barely alive drunkard.
Who goes from Establishment to Establishment unable to comprehend…
That there is no love here
Only meaning and a purpose,
Just purpose
I’m screaming now for some genuine
Love
Can you provide it to me?
I’m restless like my leg or my heart
It beats softly to the soft undercurrent of unknowns.
© A.R. Minhas 2016
