IT MUST BLEED by mutie oscar ghitto

I am traveling alongside a path with music thumping into my ears. I realize that i have been enslaved by music. for i cannot do without. Today, the road is very busy. it is solemn and angry.Its communication is harsh. I should have worn a more thick soled shoe. The dusty, rough road seems to have signed a pact with its overseer,the sun. Their combined torture has a way of forcing out sweat all over my skin. I feel as if am being roasted. What a plight the animals undergo. I have been absorbed in my thoughts. My immediate environment has subtly been overlooked at this juncture. I may have run into several of my friends, but without recognition, i trudge on. In the mind of my minds, the heart of my thoughts, i do not quite know where i am heading to. the cardinal aim is to wrestle this feeling. i want to heap blows on its head, so that it can leave me a free man. so that i can go back to my old self. I have put much effort into my thoughts, when a loosely lying stone reminds me that no matter how iam trying, iam still on earth. I realize that i have already taken an oath. A oath of alligence. The pen must bleed. And i shook my hands on it. It leaves me with no choice. I have to stick to the pact. I have to fulfill my end of the bargain for there is no turning back. My thoughts are still escalating, such that i feel a certain wanting to break the pact. 'Its no use to firmly hold the pen. The masses have become an ignorant lot. They have become drunk with folly. They will not listen to you.' it is my saddened soul speaking. The war is still on. The battle lines have been drawn. The swords have been unsheathed. It is my ego against my conscience. I am only a partial spectator. A sad spectator who is a victim of himself. I must relay the effects of the battle inside me. It has made me throw my hands around, and i have disturbed another soul. "What is wrong with you" i manage to hear her voice. Her soothing voice actually. Its sweet. It has temporarily halted the war. I shift gears to the real world. The wanting in my heart is almost crippling. I want to retort. To tell her that i am sorry. That it was an accident. But the most unusual thing happens. I can feel her hands on my shoulder. " Are you alright? sorry for being rude earlier on. " she must have realized that am disturbed. In one way or the other, she has gotten concerned. And that has saved the day. It has ended the war. The pact is on. The pen must bleed. The truth shall be told. Surely, angels have a way of taking care of things. For the road it took, saved a million lives.