I am a Particle.

I am a particle.

 Constantly shifting its position

 without any preordained logic.

I fail to locate myself on the time-space axis.

I am never where I am.

I keep chasing myself.

I keep building myself.

 I keep traveling the world of my thoughts

Constantly building the next space or the next moment

Shifting between déjà vu and intuitions

 Like the way video games construct the maps

 Or the surroundings only immediately.

Humans live at an intersection

 of time, space and feeling.

You belong to a particular place

 Only when all three are justified

I could never find my third coordinate,

a sense of feeling something truly.

 I tried to feel as to how it should be

 Or how it must be

 to most people who ever felt it,

 but all I was doing was pretending

and assuring myself that I existed.

I hardly exist.

I believe when people say I do

I believe the mirror too.

But these are just reflections

Of thoughts and glass

And reflections might be illusions.

On winter afternoons

When rays of sun

Walk through the window

And flow on my forehead

In form of droplets of sweat

And my heart beats faster

I am confused again.

Sometimes

I wake up in the middle of the night

Waiting for the silhouette of reality

Emerge from the vestiges of dreams

And like a blind person

I begin searching

For proofs of my existence

My pulse awake,

I still feel an urge

To talk immediately to someone

Just to make sure I am there.

And all this is because

I have seen moments lose memories

As if they never were.

I have humans turn to bodies

And bodies turn to ashes

And I have seen the ashes

Melting in the river

And I have seen the bangles

Still stick to dead bones

As melted plastic.

I have seen blood

And the fear of it,

Kill revolutions

And I have seen revolutions

Erase reminiscences of blood.

I have seen love changing to passion

And swords swearing of love

Piercing the heart of the lover

While not even making a sound

Except the screeching silence

Of swords meeting flesh.

I have seen dreams being still born.

And so I have seen

Constancy becoming a variable.

While I was still searching my existence,

It changed.