Beasts of Burden

The Last Burden: it returns to us in hysteria, in moments of loss. But, are the things we lose out on, really our losses? Sometimes, isn’t it so gratifying to lick our wounds, to let go of the illusion of what is rightfully ours?

The unit is like a family which begets beasts in the guise of two-legged humans –Homo Sapiens – to spawn more and more and more, until what remains is merely the void. The careworn fetishes, hugs, goodbyes. It is all packaged in the confinements of a larger-than-life dream, which we can never live out. “Ma”, the first word I uttered. How much does the word mean to me? Unfathomable, better left so.

Ageing plays the ever-truant school kid: the cause of everything mortal. No, the word is “time”. Our philosophers introduced us to the temporal nature of everything earthly. Everything physical has a life; they snuff it once they’ve served their time. Someone once said, even your dreams peter out. Ha! Snuff out on it, life’s a full circle, can sleep it through.