At the starting point of anything most of us feel lost, we don't know where it will take us, which problems we will be facing, which type of people we would meet, why we are actually doing this, what is the purpose of our life... etc but slowly we adapt to new things, people & their ways. We start to learn new things & eventually everything clears before us & now we know what was the purpose behind everything ever happened!!
How do you tell someone that you want to die? Would you write few lines on a white sheet, ink stained against your skin or would you leave without a word?
On a cold December night when no one is talking, when the world is silent that you can hear yourself clearly for the first time in a while. Or maybe on an autumn eve when the sky bleeds away into the ocean for the last time. A tranquil kind of solitude.
It isn't sad, death is death, an end is an end. Nothing more nothing less. Yet, we carry certain things that don't belong to us a little longer than we are supposed to. Like, stories of someone that made you smile for no reason on a night like this.
Do you think about death too? I wonder.
I have learned that we have to make peace with the mortality, the fragility of existing. One day you're here and then you're not. But, there is happiness, around the edges of your favorite book that you keep coming back to, warmth around the curves of someone that made you feel like something more than this, this mere existence where you struggle to wake up.
I think what makes life worth living is death, the unpredictability of existence. You don't know when the story ends, you don't know the destination but you walk through days with a hope that there is a tomorrow to wake up to. It could be your brain playing tricks on you yet it feels so real, feels so personal.
I think when we comprehend this unpredictability, we will realize how important every moment makes you feel because maybe this moment is all there is. You don't know if this moment is your last, the last kiss, a hug, the last poem that you're ever going to write, last meal, last conversation, the last smile, the last moment where you could feel the life. A few moments on this tiny planet, alone but never lonely.
I know people but I don't. It's a contradiction. Maybe the right thing to say is, I know part of them, some pieces from broken conversations that I can barely remember. I wonder they know about me too.
I pay the going breaths with the ones that are coming by. This tiresome trading is a failed business. Stocks couldn't earn me any profits. Any peaceful exchange. The market keeps on fluctuating like tides on a shore less sea. No island or tree to stop and rest by. No coconut to fall on my head and hurt it so bad,that it all comes out of my drowning emotions.
I wish I could be the island,but I am just the sand burning coarse under the heat of the day. Expanding to my farthest spilled sins, chewing my lifeboats to crawl a little. Move a little. Feel a little. Under the moonlight,the waves toss me into the voids of waters and fit for their loss. The water glimmers a little more being bandaged by my sucked light. And,I glow with pale ness of a corpse. Dragged to every inch of imprints I saved. I touched and burned cold.
The trees over my watered soil are hovering like eagles as green ashes in the sky. Rocks meant to guard growing by into sculptures of natural disasters. Cracks and vulnerable thunders now a familiar sight. Roses I hid under my folds are charred, from the kohl of the night I swallowed. I sip them everytime it rains as they groan, buried under me in suicidal consciousness.
I wish the winds to be harder than they are,to drive me out of this vain awakening and get the unwanted foetus out. The one who is darker than me, for I am afraid what it might become if let roam free. But,they are just here to play and be gay. And I am still the s a n d,everywhere yet n o w h e r e.