Existential crisis
A big thank you to Heena for nominating me for the Blogger Recognition Award. Go check her blog out. I nominate Benefits with brain because of her lovely work. Click here for the rules : rules. Also, comment below if you’ve ever gone through an existential crisis. Enjoy!
Existential crisis.
One winter night,
Inside the folded pages of darkness and the moon,
On a terrace made of stone and expectations,
I lay under the stars,
As they looked down on me.
I gazed and felt
The cold wind’s hand on my speedbag face,
The curves of darkness and its nakedness,
The bare existence of my soul
that lay hidden inside the crumpled bed-sheets of this beautiful night.
I wondered and worried,
About things bigger than my eye-lashes and 11:11 wishes,
About things more important than betrayal and revenge,
About my mere existence.
Am I Chekhov’s gun?
(If in the first act you have hung a pistol on the wall,
then in the following one it should be fired.
If I exist,
I matter.)
Or am I a gun people keep hidden in drawers,
To mark their authority and ensure their security?
Are guns needed at all?
Am I even a gun?
What am I?
I looked for answers
Inside the folded pages of darkness and the moon.
Instagram handle: @myspirals
Previous post : Butterflies and crushes.
Related post : Languages, medicines and magicians.
Give me prompts in the comment section below and share if you liked this!
Excellent! My life has been a cyclical existential crisis since I was born lol
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This makes me want to pick up Seagull again and have a read.
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Thank you! Haha I can relate.
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This is more complex than it appears on first reading. It addresses on one level the quest for self awareness and describes the drive experienced. On another questions the fundamental of the existence of good and evil. It recognises Humankinds capacity to do harm by comparison of self as a weapon. This piece muted deep stirring of the spirit. That’su view. Regards. Chris T.
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Thank you!
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Great analysis of the poem.
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Loved your poem
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Thank you so much, Christine
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Nominating you was a pleasure and your awesome poem is a proof..
Beautifully written poem…
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Thank you, Heena 🙂
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I felt like this from the time I was born until my 30s – not all the time,. but often enough. I’m glad I have a great support system now and better coping skills!
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That’s amazing! Thank you for reading.
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Wow,! This is remarkable, brilliant and deep poetry. Heartrending, touchable, perceptive, honest.
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Thank you!
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Loved it!!
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Thank you!
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Do you exist?
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Is that a question for me?
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now that’s philosophy
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Nice poetry Utsav.
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Thank you!
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Oh yeah, I’ve had many of these. Even if we do exist, so many of us are practically dead inside. So even if we do exist as physical entities, souls are rare… You write beautifully, and yours is one such soul:)
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So is yours. Thank you!
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Beautiful
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Thank you!
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OMG wow!
Coming back to reading your posts is so wonderful ❤
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Thank you! Hearing from you is wonderful too.
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❤️😁
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I am in perpetual existential crisis. Actually wrote last night about this very topic and posted 3 poems. Why?!? Why anything? I’m frustrated by not ever knowing!!
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Existential crisis leads to self destruction if you ruminate too much about it.So it’s better to avoid it:)
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It does lead to destruction sometimes. But it can never be avoided, sadly. At some point in time, you will question your existence. That’s just how it is.
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Yea exactly. It can never be avoided. It’s depressing.
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Such a good piece of poetry!
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Thank you!
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A most interesting poem. Yes I have had an existential crisis, when I got to the point of giving up drugs. I survived it, thanks to a power greater than myself. In Chinese, the ideogram for crisis also means opportunity… thanks for liking my blog and please keep reading. Peace.
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Thank you for reading.
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Ah, there’s both beauty & loathing when it comes down to existential crises. It’s amazing how you can put into words these complex emotions so vividly.
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Glad you liked it, Nameera. A pleasure hearing from you. Read more of my work, beautiful?
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Oh I did read your other posts & will keep doing so 😀 They were as brilliant as this one.
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Thank you so much!
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Ohhhh!! So maybe we all are wearing a society constructed mask and pretending to live by self!
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Maybe we all are. Thank you for reading!
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My very first existential crisis — although I did not understand it as such at the time — occurred when I was very young, when my parents read me my nightly bed-time story, and I had a sudden dread, “what if I am the story…they close the book, and I cease until someone reopens these pages again?” Worries too large for a child. They persist to this day, in the sense that I belong…elsewhere…
Thank you for this thought-provoking poem. And thank you for your recent visit to my blog, which lead me to yours! 🙂
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Thank you for reading!
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