Catastrophe

Anant said that I was at the right place.
May be I am.
I feel smug drinking this concoct of lights and dark.
I would never be at peace in woods,
nor would I be complacent in this hood.
I would carry on with my way of life,
with revolting pragmatisms and gut-felt rights.
O'Hara called these as catastrophes of one's own personality.
I'm with him there waiting for them to seem beautiful again.