his words

Blood pain horrors and fear
That is what my life seems to be made up of my deal
I’m lost I’m defeated no I’m just weakened and scared
With no light to turn to I find my death near
Peace of mind they say is a blessing
And yes a blessing it is indeed
As I cut my self ripping out my skin,
Watching my blood gush… admiring the pain
They say good guys finish last,
I say yes indeed we do…
Living in our limitations
Our dreams seem so far away
We are easy to be played with
Why? Cause we are to caring id say…
I am not made for today’s world
This world made up of pleasure and greed
And hence these last words as he lifted his feet
I shell fly I will sour one day for sure
And with that he leaned
Disappearing never to be heard from again
Did they miss him maybe they did..
But by then it was too late…

R.I.P

For I too am a man

Don’t trust me too much…
For I too am a man,
Don’t expect too much…
For I too am a man,
Don’t hope too much…
For I too am a man,
Don’t give in so much…
For I too am a man,

And though I might appear to be sensitive
And though I might appear to be soft…
But then how can you be sure that is what I am…
Hope can u be sure it’s not an act…
How can you be sure that not how I play?
How can you be sure I am true…

For even if I don’t want to deceive you I fear…
I might just end up doing so, for…
I too am a man.

A Fetish Confession…

Note by the writer:
Though this is a piece of fiction, a creation of my own mind, but its something very close to what is occurring in the society we live in… by only objective in writing this is to make you think, the conclusion of the tale is up to you... Hope it gets your brain juices running… would love to read your comment, U am not completely satisfied with this and might make changes..

Regards
Fahd A. Paracha

A Fetish Confession…


I am a monster, I am a freak.
I am a man, a slave on a leash
My cravings are my masters
My lust is my guide.
I am a Hunter for Flash and blood,
I am an addict for the sweetness of skin,
I am caged within my own self…
Never exhibited to show what a beast I am…
---

Pacification is my task… Pleasure is my Skill…
Though I be bound… Thee should be scared…
For what if the beast gets lose from its chain…
For he is a serpent, alluring you towards it,
So please don’t come to close…
Don’t think that you can help me..
For I will feed off u to…
---

I am a lover… That’s what I have been told…

*laughs*

Yet I say, I am not one with a soul…
I am a demon which craves to feed by pleasing you…
And I shell do so till all I done… and then I’d quit…
And move to the next soul…
---

There are others like me… Men and Women both..
Some may call us vampires… who feast of pleasure rather then your blood…
You cant recognize us for we… Linger among common men…

I pause to light up another cigarette, sitting on the roof top glittering in the full moon, with a cool breeze rubbing against my naked skin.. Putting the cigarette between my lips, I flip through the pages reading what I have just written…

Reading it… I cant help but feel scared… Did I just write this… I cant recall..

I tear off the pages… and light a match… these words are never meant to be shared with the world... lighting the papers, I watch them turn to dark…

I walk of the edge of the roof…, as I fall.. I see the ashes follow me..

DUSK TO DUST.. ASHES TO ASHES

The Silence is broken by a crushing sound… only to be followed by silence again…

A monster has been slayed… and a Confession, has been recorded..

Words of a ....

just yet another silent night...
my soul feels empty, unsatisfied
and yet I don't crave to cry...
for I have accepted the path that am to try
For I have drank from this grail of pain..
for I have understood how I am to be...
For I have realized the right place for me...

I am a spirit... for I am a demon...
and life... for me only exists in the shadows...

so let me be... In the walls they have built for me
so let me feel... the fire that is meant for me
So let me burn... let me enjoy the pain...

for this is the pleasure I so crave to obtain...



Fahd A. Paracha
just another soul...

Man of Stone...

I find myself becoming a man of stone... Drained of emotions... a silent being lost for words… and tonight I Walk Alone…

What remains of me is a shadow… what I am now is nothing but just another figure of skin, meat, blood and bones… I have a destiny of that I am sure… of achieving it, I am not so sure…

For where I am today… I find everything as being an Illusion. Fake … my name my identity, my memories… are nothing but faded writings in the sand… and when the wind will blow all will be lost... and my presence in the world would not be known anymore….

Today I ask for forgiveness… from my father, forgiveness from my model… forgiveness from my sister, forgiveness from my friends… for I could not be what you had always wished for me to be…

But all is not lost… for there still a small flame burning deep in my hollow soul… which keeps me going… fighting… struggling… afraid… scared for what would happen I it to blows out…

Life (final edit)

It’s funny, how life is… your happy, your down… you thing that the world has ended every time you lose something or someone special…

We get depressed… and we look for sympathy someone to tell our tales to, someone to listen to us… and yet we feel alone, looking, searching for that one thing that makes us complete…

Some do find it… some find in religion, others following their passion while a few in the arms of the loved ones… but why... Why is it that we search, why it we look for…

Am sitting in front of my PC, typing as it comes to mind, "Blindfold" Morcheeba, playing on my broken headphones, I feel strange… complex… tired bored… with a huge question mark on my face… writing random stuff… hoping it makes sense… hoping it tells some tale…

Ha.. A tale, ya that’s what life made of isn’t it tales of friends lost, friends found, experiences… faces…

Have you ever while walking down a busy street looked at the faces of people around you… have you noticed those certain faces… blank as the black hole, consumed by harsh realities that they face in their own individual lives…

Have you tried reading their faces…

Maybe you have tried but then they just fade away into the waves of people in that sea of life… just imagine yourself, imagine it with me,

Imagine that your standing at a footpath on a busy street… close your eyes… hear the sound… can you can u feel the shoulders brushing by your sides… can you sense the traffic, can you hear that guy say move along dude… your blocking the way… way… way to what… all I see are zombies… endlessly without any end…

The music has stopped playing, let me just add some tracks… ahh i'd just let the player scan my disk, let the computer decide on the play list… for isn’t that what we do at times… let other’s decide what’s right for us and what’s not… what we should do or what should we not… who is good for us and who is not…

If your hoping all this writing might make sense some where… it might not.. Then again its what we drive out of all these little things…

Ok so I had a status on facebook titled

“Life's so boring! Need an adventure…”

and a good friend and an amazing artist Susana Weingarten (http://www.susanaweingarten.com) posted something really beautiful on my wall… something I can end this blog on… as I was wondering what this would end on…
She writes

“…Life is boring? oh no....if you would see things in other dimensions not visible to the eye.....but visible to the heart and other occult eyes...try...life is not boring! it is hard, and tastier in every moment....no... Need to have adventures as you see in films ....just check out your dreams...see the moon, hug it, kiss the trees, look at each person in the eye..That is so adventurous!”

So true… so I end this with these words from Susana mentioned above ..
So go ahead… experience life.. ;) the way you have never done before… lets see what we discover… :)

Tale of a lost virgin

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note by the writer:
Though this is a piece of fiction, a creation of my own mind, but its something very close to what is occurring in the society we live in… by only objective in writing this is to make you think, the conclusion of the tale is up to you...

Regards
Fahd A. Paracha

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Tale of a lost virgin


He looked at his cell phone, It was 5 am, time for another cigarette he thought,
Picking up his lighter he lit his favorite disease, he could not help but recall the tale, the tale she had told him…
He hated his guts he hating himself for being a man..

“15”

He recalled… 15, he thought… a innocent number, but there was nothing innocent about the tale attached to it

He wondered how she had given her heart to a man, who was nothing more than a stone.. how he had lifed her off her feets, how he had made her dream… how they all had made her dream… how they promised her they would take her away from all this and how at the end they all did the same…

“What was her sin” he wondered
“TRUST?”
“HOPE?”

And what did she get in return. ..

“REGRATE!”

They say

“Everything that happens, Happens for a reason… “

but what was the reason behind all this…
he remembered the scars she had shown him, scares from her atrocious past… what was ever gained by all this…
he remembered her saying,
he wondered,

“was it her sin, that she was beautiful… was it a sin that she was well gifted…?”

He felt like such a pig remembering how he tried to imagine how she must of looked under all those cloths… ya he was one of him… he was the same.. no matter what sympathy he may show… no matter what empathy he may of displayed… HE WAS THE SAME …
He remembered how whom ever came to know of her tale did the same, how they forced her, how they abused her, how they treated her like a second hand peace of play…
He recalled her tears the tears of her failure to keep the most precious gift she had… and how lost she had become recalling her mistake…
He recalled her tears as she told him what she had to do.. how she had to take the life of an unborn soul… he recalled her screams and that question...

“what was that child’s fault”

He recalled her telling how the society had also pointed fingers for her sin…

How they abused her…

“ya society!”

he thought,

“snakes dressed up in white, with their sins buried and forgotten deep in their chests… secretly regretting how someone had beaten them to her…”

He looked at his cell phone again, it was 6 am, how time had passed during his thought… he got up from the bed, took out some cash and placed it on the side table… he looked back at the bed, there she lay tired and asleep, aged 20 now, her innocence, still visible on her face,

he placed another cigarette on his lips,.. wondering if he would see her again,
but then again that was most unlikely…

"for tomorrow would be another night, another woman another tale…"