Sometimes you just wish you can be someone. Just share in their sorrows and troubles. If only somethings were possible then the world would have been a better place. Maybe it's starts with "hi" but literally a lot happens in a human mind. Maybe ten to four is the problem or rather eleven till dawn. 'But' comes around with a lot of suggestions, questions and reasoning. But only a numb human brain can bear anything and everything behind every but. Doesn't comes in simplicity but it's always as a result of a negative pressure. Negative forces with negative issues only meant to divert or rather distract a normal human mind. It kills, and takes the life in the mind. Might sound the same but actually, there's more to killing that makes it so different from taking a life. Might be loosing something or maybe confusing some sort of concept but actually I guess there's a lie in this truth and the vice versa. Is life for living or learning? I don't really expect answers but I'm desperate for some. Cheers to the mad people or those considered to be. It really ain't a bad thing. Actually saves one a lot of chaos and drama. Might be driven but with no driver, no technic and no magic. Just driven in tour or rather through tour the choice is yours. But what if you could change the settings to get a different mindset, what would be your pick? If you get to be in charge of all thoughts and workings of the brain, what would you change? What are your desires? Human brain considered compact or maybe complex is Kinder the simplest organ to deal with. Just like a baby getting used to mama and dada. That's how the mind or maybe brain work. Lest I get into details maybe it's better to be dormant, numb and lifeless just to win the miserable life looked down to just to get the breathe of life. Lil bit deep but shallow in a way... Maybe or maybe not makes sense. But sense ain't sense unless you once was not sensible. Get hold of the right settings to just get to set the right mindset, not for life but for you. Intelligence or curiosity, everyday you learn a new thing. Good or bad, can't be scraped off. Sense or nonsense, starts with a thought of a second. I guess am done confusing the human brain. Just a food_for_thought!
But maybe we all are mistaken, we seem more taken by things less forgotten thus always dependent. All around us are hints, hints on how to make the next step, how to play the next round and to what angle the other turns should be... But we all are invaded, minds shaded into a dark complexion not even able for the light to illuminate. Maybe it's just another episode of a game or rather a movie.. With no one being sober. We all are manipulated into being characters, models in reality, undefined nature and imbalanced minds played as virtuals in reality...
We seem lost but always found... We misplace roles once in a while but we always get through... Interesting, what if, what if it is a game, wouldn't it be interesting? Would all our roles be perfectly placed for none to notice or rather use it as a food for thought? Art or talent? Whatever it is... Real or fake? It's all vanity in disguise. Maybe.... D. E. E. P_T. H. O. U. G. H. T. S!
Maybe tears are just pain in disguise or maybe just a symbol of forthcoming peace. Maybe smiles are just joy in disguise or maybe just a symbol of forthcoming outbursts. We tend to hide in beliefs Just to escape reality checks... We run from our own to meet with the so called magic. We forget or rather have the tendency to forget just what we don't wanna remember. We try to hide the bad in us and over show the good that's never enough. We portray love, not that there's no hate in us but we just wanna be perfect. No one ever wants to be told that they have acne, neither do most stammeres accept that they actually do stammer. Everyone wants to scrub off their dirty coating and remain like pure silver with no rust... Everyone wants to fall in love and have a happy ever after. No one wants to hear the hard truth, none is ready to work for what they want, but they all are interested in an easier way to get to their dream places. It's like the abracadabra that changes water to juice. Apparently that's just not how things work, hurts to know but it's the bear truth. Accepting is always the first step and all follows. Accept your flaws, your beauty with acne, with or without dimples, light or dark, plump or skinny... Just look at the mirror and be proud of the reflection. That's the beginning of abracadabra!
Maybe it was mistakenly heard and seen, it was never meant to be visible, it was to be in secret for as long as it existed but maybe it was found as a mistake. Broke the rules, escaped, hid and now it's all over strolling like it owns the placeseems not to care of what will happen next but only does what benefits it's now. Whatever come after now doesn't really mattermaybe it's good. But who knows♀️. Fan.Tasy. Imagi.Nation. Real.Ality. Tick the clock goes on with its daily job. Waits for no one☣️. Not the great, the confused, the famous but just none✨. It tries not to fit but keeps feets on track. Keeps things moving, not always but it doesn't care. Sometimes it's just numb, the valor, audacity to ignore the compulsory undone only comes from the great, the chosen few, lost Gen, the meant to be . I thought of it as great and might but then it proved me wrong. Showed me how stupid I was to think of bad as good, weakness as strength. It was just 54 minutes beside myself feeling unreal and unmoored.
Or maybe sometimes it's always my fault. I got used to explaining my innocence so much that I lost my dignity to pity. I lost my price tag to vulnerability and forgot my worth. I would worry so much about what people think than worrying of how much I portray myself to them. I chose to be me... Fierce me. I adopted the I don't care attitude and still remained to be the bad one. I stopped explaining myself and still then I stopped expecting more than what I had already received. A lot changed and experiences made me wilder. I became what people feared in me. I thought it was for the best but still I lost myself the more. I didn't know what exactly would be best for me coz in everything I tried as a new experience changed to be the worst. Maybe I had no place to occupy. Maybe I just didn't belong. Was a long journey that was always endless. Full of light less tunnels, a zillion diversions and zero directions. That's like counting stars aimlessly and keep on giving the same star a different number. That's being more than lost... That's dissapearing into thin air. Coming from particles to molecules and still not getting the slightest idea. You can never be small enough to find the slightest peace. Use what comes to you.
If I could write all about it , the trash in me, content behind the mask, hurt n pain in me. If I could ink it down, then I could have been doing justice for my soulbut Ave weakened my own spirit, shut my own eyes, broken my own heart, n slummed the door on my face. If I could be crazy, and just shed blood cold heart, with no feelings of guilt, no regrets, no tears in sorrow, then I would have done justice for my life. If I could be dead, haunt everyone who trampled on me, those who crashed me like a computer with no battery, like a body with no heart, like a gas with no content, in short I was useless in their eyes❤. It hurt until hurts no more and I'll be hurting if I shut myself down again . Maybe am insane, drove myself crazy trying to find the lost me, little did I know, I was doing justice for my mind, I freed it little by little from diverse pain n anguish. I freed it from chained thoughts, thorny ideas n dead memories . Maybe am just free in disguise... Maybe am lost... Maybe I died
Aglow the dead words/in lèvres of mockingbirds/poems etch on girds • Books are acumen /aptly profound and bunsen/to cryptic brooklyn • Clasp few metaphors /from unorthodox seashores/(or) cage fabled centaurs • Doused dictionaries/in grubby-flamed libraries/lynched like the questionnaires • End thou envisage/in smithereens of salvage/abutting pawn-age • Furbelow festooned/with stars and the moon lampooned/when death was once spooned • Gurgling the stages/of age and the visages/like moon's frail phases • Hourglasses array/chomping on fleshes, astray/with clocks and sun's ray • Illusive inkpots /empty bottled wishes, clots/burgeoning new blots • Jaws which are mouldered/steadily language slaughtered/in sighs it clamored • Kef the scars and frights/what you blame are your insights/peppered with the plights • Love is cure or blind/for fingers and orbs entwined/and soulful hearts bind • Monsoon's pure demure/macabre misdemeanor/autumnal coiffure • Nosepins of spring/summer's tiny diamond ring/joy of rain they bring • Ole red crisp roses/oxymoronic proses/and poems glosses • Papers and brushes/picturesque the blemishes/when the wind gushes • Quarantined humans/coronaviridae shuns/handshakes we beckons • Rhymes and the music/rhythmic, totally classic/lyrical clastic • Saudade I behold/optimism or memoir gold/what the life's clock hold • Teleport trinket/of night's black and dark blanket/morphed into bracket • Ululating dreams/birthday cakes or some ice creams/where penury screams • Vaguely the quill versed/chapters and roundabouts, cursed/when the phantasm burst • Winter slowly blushed/when its lips monsoon's spell crushed/clouds silhouette hushed • Xylobium worn/on her feet which are sun-born/sang taciturn dawn • Yawps of silent death/beleaguered from aftermath/what the life once hath • Zipped-up abused mouths/seconds, minutes, days or months/oblivious garths.
Sad. Wandering in dark alleys, in freezing cold winters, it's always easy to escape of that lone tear, yearning hard, to flow down my rough cheeks. The clacking sound of my boots adds to that melancholy melody, that helped me make it out, through the crowd of forlorn people. I do not know, the accuracy of someone's feelings because the sun doesn't bring happiness to all of us; like for me, it just strains my eyes, making it hard for me to come out of my comfortable bed which I know has cuffed the freedom of my recovery, from the fear of things, I pretend to be unaware of.
The warmth that I had found, after being handcuffed to the laziness in me, is transient, and would take me to the grave where neither you would visit me with chrysanthemums nor there would be a dandelion plantation, and I do not like to cling onto the hope, of having a visitor.
Comfort. The essence of an embrace, or the warmth I once found in someone's word might have been lost or faded, the way colors of rainbow fade in the sky where they appear like the way we live here to die in the end? I sit under the sky, until the invisible stars in the daylight finally, become distinct in the dark; finding that warmth in the sun rays which strain my eyes or beneath the torn blanket of stars, but then I am habituated, of returning empty handed, giving myself to the shackles of my bed.
Fear. Loneliness. I question myself, looking in the mirror, and I ask the same questions, I used to answer with a silent smile on the outside with the will to disappear, running in my arteries. How many weekends, have you sat cross-legged, taking the support of a white wall seeing yourself in the mirror; highly caffeinated, introspecting yourself, questioning your worth and your existence? The mere thought of losing out and not being able to achieve my daily goals makes me lose my breathe, and here I begin to cry and make an excuse, how I had no one by my side, pushing me to work on myself, and giving me a hand to pull me out of the pit, which I have started considering my house!
How I kept waiting, sitting by the window for someone to help me out of that loneliness but what if it's just the wind that caressed me and the sun rays that embraced me? I know the wait will not be worth it, the wind must have whispered, and the sun must have screamed that it's just me who could help me out of that hole, I miserably fell into. Even after several non-vocalised battles, between the hemispheres of my brain, I still feel a lacuna of thoughts inside me. A loneliness that makes me, scratch my hands and hair; offering me a desire to vanish, disappear and fade away. and everyday when I walk a step closer, to the fulfillment of an unfulfilled desire, I get far away from myself, and from the infinite abyss, which I no longer belong to. So, I am finding directions, of a place where it all ends with an added uncertainty that does that place exist? -nitrousoxide