from the outside

i have a friend, kay. that is his pseudonym. his alias, his moniker, his nickname. like all persons i know mentioned in this blog, including myself, anonimity is kay, and kay is anonymous.

kay has approached me sometime in the past few weeks. he is strong and independent, real and astute. he is many things, but he is not someone fueled by emotions - he is definitely someone who hides behind a facade of smiles and nods. and because of this, i can never tell what kay is feeling, past the sincerity of his answers when i ask him, 'how are you?'

kay has approached me sometime in the past few weeks. he is sobbing relentlessly, but makes no sound. his sobbing is in the tremor of his voice, the tremble of his unsinging words. where there used to be poetry and dance, now lies epithets of solemnity and allusions of death. i wonder to myself, what misfortune has befallen kay, and why is it only now that i see him for who he is?

kay and i watch movies regularly. one of the movies we watched recently is 'youth in revolt', that movie starring michael cera. neither of us is a big fan of his, but this movie is interesting somewhat. it is kind of fresh, though surreal and for pragmatists like us, it is actually funnier than it is anything else.

at the end, kay is contemplative, and i ask him, why so serious? he tells me that all is lost in love and war, and since he is at war with none but himself, he is lost to and in love. though this does not shock me, i am propelled into a series of questions kay is reluctant to answer, only to this he says that i do not understand.

dear kay, there is none who understands less, and none who understands more. to every fall of man and elevation of the idea of him, i am no different than what makes us frail and vulnerable and empathic. upon your request, now i set to write an ode to that which props man up, and to you i wish you never read it. fare you well, and swift recovery, lest it affects and effects you in more ways than you are kay.

best wishes.