Camaraderie and Contemplation

I don't know WHO this is about, so I guess it's safe to say it's not about anyone in particular. It's far easier to say WHAT it is about though, I would say.

You rely on me. I rely on you.

I’ve known you for eons.

We may never see each other again but I do not fret because fate will bring us together again.

I am unfazed, nonchalant, blasé as I plunge unabashed into your delightfully complex world.

Perhaps I rely on you in this manner so profoundly, so excruciatingly, so hopelessly because you fill my void.

We are so different yet so alike.

We click.

We fight.

We conquer.

It makes me feel achingly, preposterously alive as if I am perched upon the very edge of a colossal cliff, gazing bleakly into the horizon as the sun dissolves into a gigantic beam of gloomy obscurity. 

We stare unflinchingly into the planet’s devilish, crimson eyes and we breathe.

We keep slogging along.

My void has been filled, my anguish alleviated, my knowledge of myself deepened, more profound.

We are a thorny, intricate being together, tricky to deduce, and simpler to fathom.

While all the while, paradoxically, our unsounded nature only narrows eyes, produces grimaces, and triggers derision.

We are immune to it, you and I. 

Standing tall pays off in the long run. I am as jaded as can be, but I am certain it will all be worthwhile sooner rather than later, given that the absurdities and crass fatuousness that beckons us at every door we traipse through is drawing to a close. 

Frighteningly soon.

If you are the infinitesimal sapling lodged upon a mound of barren, desolate terrain, perched just under the glimmering sphere of radiance, and if lightning were to strike down upon you and thrash you about to and fro like a sailboat in a tempest, I will be the cliff that will jut out, and hover above you to offer protection.

I will be your shield.

If you were a pebble and if a sadistic creature were to emerge from the pits of hell and thrust you into a gaping, murky crater, I would be a lucent apparition, stealthy and shrewd and pad across the soft earth and slay the heinous creature.

I will be your sword.

You give me a reason to continue trekking through the muddled, drab sea of life, the chapters, the aching lessons learned through the harsh, agonizing experiences endured.

Your galloping fury, my ardent autonomy, our lucid, glassy, piercing pupils penetrate into everything and anything. 

The wondrous voids we are tugged into, blindfolded and alert, frenzied and placid, livid and at ease.

You are the rod that pricks my flesh to stir me, offer me a rude awakening at a time when my obstinacy tends to cloud my whirling mind and get the best of me.  

Yet, in spite of it all, we are one in the same.

I digest all colors of the startling longevity of our very existences. 

You make it all the more bearable and intoxicating if this arduous journey to find self-worth and acceptance in a society teeming with absurdities, spitefulness, nuances.  

It brings blistering tears to my eyes when I contemplate our fate; however, at other times, I find a perverse euphoria in it all.