The imaginary friends.

In the past I often stumbled upon the meaning of anApology. Is it that I am accepting a defeat? Or am I letting someone’s belief be proven from mine? Or is it simply a senseless social responsibility to function in the world as humans?

As my logical brain had taken most of the decision I went with the third option and I found it be working quite nicely. But that was when I was a kid. For me that time it was another word said to have the relationship intact rather than letting it die in the name of my imaginary friend “ego”.

Little did I knew that my imaginary friend would harness from the hormonal changes and as I hit puberty the imaginary friend hit it as well. Now when it came to apologize I had better excuses and I could just let them see how wrong there were. I often told them why and what I did in order to avoid the labour of my lips mumbling, “I am sorry.”

Now the imaginary friend has an imaginary friend of it’s own, the “isolation”. And “ego” loves “isolation” so much that it cannot function without it. It would often drag me out of social conventions just so the “isolation” could grew as the mentor “ego” saw to it.

Now I have, like most of humans, a childish debate but not the attitude towards apology and I am feeding both of my imaginary friends as they now control me.

– Another human

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The Black Bride.

As we often find ourselves to drifting in the shade of night. I find it therapeutic to collect the nightmares and craft them into something soothing. 
I met this lady in one of my nightmares and she refuses to leave me alone, hence I have decided to write this piece as she has visited me and how the first meet happened. 
Windows shriek, the ceiling fell,

Comes the dark knight in the roomy peril, 

A headless beast breathing dark,

Staring from the steed waiting to hark,

Comes the man born from fear,

In his presence life is held dear,

With a swinging sword in one of his hand,

Pushing aside the delirious realm, 

And a shield was meant to be in another, 

But the monster is not here to get together, 

Now he stares as the red mist covers,

My shallow heart now shivers,

As it starts walking to me,

I became stoned in horrible misery, 

The monster asks, “Who are you?”

I couldn’t say a word or two. 

He asks again with more aggression, 

And he spits on my face the dark regression.

No a sight in sight only dark night claims,

My will to live and my throne of shame. 
And comes a lady before he struck the blade,

In the dark gown and a hidden face, 

She says “I am here don’t you worry

Don’t be so gloom, don’t be so weary.

He is my son, one of many,

He is here for the harmony, 

Shivering in the faith; little left in inside, 

I ask her, “are you the infamous black bride?” 

I felt her smile through her veil, 

Then she commanded the monster to flee,

She came near and I saw her skin, 

Darker than night and darker than sins,

Smooth as silk, glistening like stars, 

In the bay of coal like the sparkling char,

She leaned, I felt her skin against mine,

The clocks then shivered and didn’t chime,

She held my face in her hands at last,

I found the misery and joy of my past, 

In her eyes like a show from some play,

I saw myself from the hollow bay,

How I was saint in one of eyes, 

In other, How my sins painted the void,

Her lips then moved and refused to speak,

She plucked my lips and I was still,

I felt the divinity entering my soul,

My soul packed bags and was ready to go,

From limb to limb it collected its belongings,

And waved a hand to the throngings, 

My soul was ready to depart from myself,

And the lady kept it on the top of her shelf. 

My soul asked her, “Have I paid my ridiculous debt?” 

She smiled simply, “Hence your vessel was at the of kiss of death.”