Agile drops of insane reality diving into the pool of serenity. My body is swarming with each drop, each crystalline alley in my nakedness. I try to find a way out. Transparency transforms my body into a maze. Dripping water takes the froth of filth away. It’s just me, scrubbed and polished. Almost a virgin. Here I am, under the shower trying to figure out the motion of sound. A stagnant figure against the shape of intangibles. Street music fades away towards the realm of green horizon. Small pieces of one big picture. The ringing bells of a cycle, loud women, dripping water on the bucket. Doorbell; an elevated son hugging his father. Oh, I can feel every motion running around the universe. Is it the water that alters my perspective? Is it the way they scribble onto my face, shoulders, the sinful freckles, the birthmark on my leg? Translucent sensations crossed each other’s paths with ease, dressing me with newly designed camouflage, then deforming themselves.
Or, is it really humane to fathom the riddles of universe from a static point with nature as a medium? Is it possible to decipher Camus’ theory of existence of non-existence without knowing the vast field of human psychology? How foolish of me to think I could figure out the world through the mysteries of water and sound! But again, can’t I?
Also, the world is highly contagious. I see the collision of love and hate, wrath and tenderness. The manifestation of emotions colliding with each other. Water; it’s on my body, inside my ribs, near the stream of blood.
I’m the spectre, invincible.