The Monkey Mind

" Conviction is the aura of subjective truth, a man so willingly breathes..." Prayer is the foundation of faith. And it so exists, in the sincerity of a mortal's breath; long, deep, and contemplative. You may visualize life in its relentless pursuit of the fulfillment of never-ending drives; food that intermittently sates the hunger, sleep that quietly rests the fragile body, the applied knowledge that nails purpose in the fidgety mind, fiery sex that frees the spirit from its inherent mortal trapping for a while, more or less.  It is breath, and the process of breathing, in its steady depth, the prayer of mortal discovers consistency...that atheist sighs and yields willingly unto his faith of faithlessness. If you are wondering who that atheist is, obviously that ignoble person albeit hypocritical, is none other than me, the author of this ruminating writing Yes, an "Atheist".  and not a day goes by, that I do not pray .                                      

                                                  In the early morn, at a crowded underground train station, a family of three had found refuge. The ponderous environment coalesced the ancient air which smelled musty, with that of the neoteric tenant, the human smell that wafted from unwashed bodies. The poor light had become a playground where fleeting shadows played hide and seek, with the dim lamps dispersed unevenly on various corners, uninhabited as if awaiting for grim reapers to walk out. " Evermore " *whisper* Under a flickering light... ...foreheads gently met each other, small belonging to a pitifully crying child, and, broader wrinkled in grim worry, to a middle-aged man whom she desperately clung to.  Her small clumsy arms barely encircled his burly neck, yet they refused to let go, as her teary voice incessant with desperation, uttered shiveringly "V ater, geh nicht, Bitte-Bitte-Bitte"   Yet, her squeaky voice weakened to a bare whisper, and unto silenc