Chains

I suddenly see the chains
There’s literally thousands of them
Joining me to everything around me
This looks like the messy tangle of wires under my computer desk but hundred times wilder
Like a prisoner in shackles bound to everything in sight
A few of them are strong and sturdy, making it difficult to move around
Others break to the touch giving way for new ones immediately
It’s the ones with untested strength that I’m worried about
The ones that break without a warning
Seemingly strong to touch but frail like glass
A lot of the chains that i hold on to seem stretched to the limit,
Ready to snap any minute now,
The chains comfort me, keep me warm in an otherwise cold and untethered unaffectionate world,
They smell like home, like a late breakfast served in bed
What are these chains though and what exists at the other end,
Are they equally scared about the chain breaking,
Do they fear losing out on me too
The strong ones that bind me seem old,
The new ones are a few pathetic attempts at threads,
Delicate, broken with a wave of the palm
They need conscious, attentive care to mature or they get washed away,
Like decorations after Christmas, out on the sidewalk, broken, forgotten, refuse.
I think I need to sleep

The chains move into a metaphysical world where they end into people, things and ideas
Existing for the purpose of my survival, and well being
Sometimes I can sense them tugging at me,
Reminding me, comforting me, telling me they’re still there
I don’t know if I’m entirely sure of what lies on the other end,
We’ve never met
It’s just the little rhythmic tugs that I’m aware of
The beautiful feeling of an especially precious, distinct and unique sequence of tugs
The dread of its silence,
The ones closest to the heart,
Some lead me by the hand, some blind me and bind my legs, some wrap around me in a warm fuzzy feeling,
Eventually I will get comfortable with anything,
The frog never feels the pot boil

– Vijay R