Five-Minute Riot

they streamed out,

in quick succession—

holding handkerchiefs

to their noses, some

emerged with their eyes

watering, others were

coughing,

siren blaring the coda

to what unfolded

inside, burning eyes,

.

the five-minute riot

bifurcates

sense of accomplishment,

to the bingeing

on bad behaviour,

unprecedented,

a gross miscalculation,

the plan nixed, to allow

today’s debacle,

lost…

.

A 55-word erasure poem for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads. Worded after massive erasing of text but in serial order of course, from here.

Image source

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My Risky Venture

I have sent e-mails to various institutes providing Certificate courses in Patisserie/Baking and Confectionery, regarding the course information. I am now just waiting for their reply.

I know I can’t go for a Bachelor’s degree. But I have something else in my mind, something I would like to do.

I need proper training and I hope that I get it.

Regarding family approval for dropping-out, I haven’t got it yet. First, I want to get admission for one of the courses- then, I think they would oblige to my wishes, I hope.

I am going for a risky venture, but my heart is guiding me this time. And I am going to put some faith in my heart.

Even if I fail in the future, I know my whole life will be ruined even more so, but I would have the satisfaction that I tried and that I listened to my heart.

I am hoping for the best, and trying to wave off the feelings of hopelessness and anxiety and depression that are striking me every hour.

I need support, that is all I need right this moment.