The world has become so unfamiliar. Once you were part of the brew, now you appear an aloof soul – not exactly the person you wanted to carry as you step out. So you have to stick it out and suck it in but not too much that you lose the very thing you’re risking all of these for. Then the snaps evince that you had a good time those hours when everyone else seemed inebriated. You fired one shot. One shot was all it took. You had to run off but without damages, and you knew it. And this was the reason why you were playing tug-of-war with dear superego in the first place. Not that you couldn’t stand the company – in fact you had heart, but the spirit that consumes the collective is just too much for a lone soldier. So you have to take off prematurely only to find yourself in yet another rendezvous. What have you gotten yourself into? You could have been watching Mechas in virtual action but here you are whooping it up in the real world. You didn’t fire this time because there wasn’t any compulsion, thank goodness – maybe it’s the age, you figured. But the conversations, the culture, the reverie were all too familiar. Finally you remember the world, you knew how it felt but not completely – ‘coz it will never come to that point ever again. You know you are not fooled but you continue and try to associate – without a noble resolve. You knew you’d come home wanting to strangle your spirit. You knew it would happen. But you had to go because you couldn’t hide in the comforts of your “zone” forever. You had to step out and inhale the air you yourself once breathed. Guilt is out of the question. It’s really a matter of intent and of doing something with it. How did you differentiate yourself? Was it even manifest? And you call yourself radical. You need to break more. You need the nerve to embrace exile if that’s what it takes. Whatever it takes, you need to put the light on full view, not dim it. So what if the world will think otherwise. So what if they’d dismiss you crazy. So what if. So what. So what.
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