Fade Away

Your mind is just a program

And I’m the virus

I’m changing the station

I’ll improve your threshold

I’ll turn you into a super drone

And you will kill on my command

And I won’t be responsible…

- Muse (Psycho)

Feet stomped on the forgotten graves. The grass concealed the names of the departed, making them look like faded memories. The other side of the fence where tombs were so shiny with granite finishing populate the calla lilies and stargazes smiling and mouthing the names of the rich departed. Even in death, there is a disparity between the rich and the poor… No one visited the forgotten souls while the beloved ones have cotton-clad relatives sipping iced tea and tinkering on their electronic gadgets.

But when the afternoon sun peeped at the rich tombs, its cruel rays screamed at the flowers and the scented candles started to melt. The flowers wilted and joined the expired occupant of the tombs. The grass on the poor side eased their way up and started to perform the process of photosynthesis. They feed on the sun and survived another day. The visitors went home and the place was then covered with silence. The norm came back: the dead is the same… No rich, no poor. They are simply NOT HERE.

The living continued their lives. Some got drunk since they considered coming over the tombs as another day of gratifying themselves. Some said their prayers and others asked the priest to bless the graves…There were kids, clad in their clothes which has Poverty labelled over them who stole the adornments and candles to be sold for some food. Their bodies were decorated with dirt and Hunger seemed to be their family names.

The drunk swaggered home. Their intoxicated dreams were incomprehensible. Those who were clinging to their emotions continued to wallow in distress on their relationships: others were selfish, some were on the rocks. Some of the adults were thinking about money - on how they will sustain their families for the next few days. There were those who salivate on their elicit affairs and the youngsters plan for events to fill in their bored minutes. The living continued to find their niche, their reasons and their meanings.

When darkness defeated the day, heavens wept.

You continued with your introspection. There is a need in you to broaden your horizons. You need not strive too much on things that could make you unhappy. You must discover who you really are and what path you are going to trek. There is also this realization that everything is temporary. There is no need for you to chase something beyond yourself. You could live simply and be rooted on good ground. Material things won’t be there forever. You can't bring them to your grave...

You are fleeting. You may be the forgotten grave or the well-adorned one. But it is the same. All would be gone. You will be gone. There are some who will be obliged to visit once a year. But for the rest of eternity, you are alone. 

Better, become the flower for the living. Let them smell the beauty of life. Be the candle for the young. Instead of melting uselessly, be the light....the guide...the beckon. LIVE!