Surya T

[themorningreads]

The never ending road

A step, one after the other Flickering street lights, a few meters visible the path lay dark, the scene darker still the road stretches to infinity, the time finite

The never ending road A path paved before, and the unpaved the unpaved stares me in the eye yet to be walked on

The never ending road inviting another step, just one more the unpaved stares me in silence deafening the triumphant screams behind

The voices dampen in front of the silence the triumph of all I've done, all I've achieved pales in front of what must be done, must be achieved the deafening silence falls

-Surya T

[themorningreads]

Tax

Take it from my pocket the day it comes The moment it even reaches my wallet taking your "share", as you call it so that you can squander it

Because my belief in your is shattered each day I see a road you've yet to repair each day I see a protest over stupid things each day I see a pothole on the road halting everyone and making life worse

my frustration grows exponentially when I pay for "programs" that incentivize laziness, and ignorance that incentivize being unemployed" that incentivize theft and fraud and tell the honest ones to fuck off!

-Surya T

[themorningreads]

The rush behind the language of the machines

The rush behind the language of the machines In names that resemble a pokémon rather than something that makes machines understand the complex thought process in our head Each day, a new language a new way of working, and a new thought process A new syntax, and grammar to learn to become obsolete as soon as it arrived Yet the rush to teach is immense To code is to worship To code is being human and various other quotes about how important it is to code to create a software, an app that does what something else does in the world just so that there’s a number on the sheet after a dollar that is a few times of the investment the rush behind the language of the machines to see the world as Neo does in the Matrix Green lines of numbers and symbols and a rush to learn that from an age before we could recite numbers at all.

–Surya T

[themorningreads]

Intoxication

Running a sissyphian life pushing the boulder up the hill just for it to roll back to the bottom doing the same thing over and over even though it blisters and bruises

pain is a guilty pleasure in a small amount, it is like dessert Craving for more, and then a little more the hurt is intoxicating as well as sweet like a bottle of rum

life is a sissyphian task pain, the boulder, and all the things we deal intoxicating us and incentivizing us to repeat pain is intoxicating, and I thirst for it

through pain, my purpose is fulfilled my passion becomes meaningful and my existence fruitful pain is intoxication let no one tell you that pain is scary let no one betray you from reality

[themorningreads]

The sense of dread wouldn’t leave A familiar face, yet so unrecognizable Did I make the right choice? My reflection stands in front It is supposed to be me, yet it is someone else

A soundless cry rose from me Reciprocated by my reflection Desperate became its visage with the cry As one trapped in a prison wishing to escape My visage stares back at me, as I at it

The visage mocks me in a desperate state A helplessness in its eyes, yet a smirk on its face ‘I-told-you-so’ grin breaking through the lips While I cannot fathom the beginning or the end

Two punctured holes stare at me, size of golf balls Seems they’re deeper inside than they should be Trying desperately to get out of the socket Hopefully to see the world in its entirely To fulfill the role, they were designed to do

My mouth barely opens, lips seem stitched together I try to move my jaw, with herculean effort My lips refuse to open, leave their lovely embrace I pry them open, hoping I don’t bleed just to say a word Luckily, I don’t!

My visage stares at me and in its questioning eyes Lies a statement I cannot seem to face myself What happened that made me so unrecognizable? What happened that made this visage an uncomfortable truth Rather than a lovely reflection of what I am.

–Surya T

[themorningreads]

Warriors of the Internet

Art, a career option, a means of making a living Unheard of just a few centuries ago in the world Now, a lucrative career option or a side-hustle Yet, a bigger problem remains unseen Lurking in the shadows, observing an artist’s every move

Critically thinking where it isn’t needed Not understanding what the artist is conveying Creating meaning which wasn’t intended Just to shame, belittle, or harm them

We thrive and do crave for validation Our stories keep pouring out of us No strong a barrier can hold them inside Yet you are proving stronger

Why must you be the judge, the jury, and the executioner? Can’t an artist live his life and work through his passion In peace, in solidarity, and safety Must I think a hundred times before my thoughts are revealed?

Warriors of the Internet, what is your end-goal? To defend the defenseless, or protect people from words? Of thoughts that picture the world in the distorted way they are in?

Warriors of the Internet, who do you serve? What is your purpose and who are your masters? Why must I submit to your judgement? Why must I submit to your execution?

Warriors of the Internet, what is your purpose? Why is my success dependent on your perception? On your understanding on what is right and wrong? Of what is allowed and not allowed?

Is this the reality of this world now? Masters of the Internet – the common people around us? Scrutinizing our each digital move To permit us to become big or crush us to the ground

-Surya Teja