Myself

So, when I look at the keyboard, as for the sake of human civilization and communication, there are 26 keys of alphabets. Yet, when I try to just put out something that’s volumizing in my mind, I couldn’t see enough combination of possible phrases to describe them all. I could not even express them all so as to describe it. And I still not perceived whether it is an issue of mine or the world I’m existing in. It drains me out, knowing something’s odd around myself and not perceiving what the fact really is. It’s an utter irony to say, many days of life has been just gone, in attempts of figuring out those. I’m still on the count so far in the quest which seems a bizarre fantasy to many eyes and souls. Well, the things that I’ve lost, were not ought to leave with the memories behind, but after all, they did. There glimmered one pair of eyes, the one that I never got tired on looking in for hours, days and nights. I saw the whole world within, or to say, my whole world within those gorgeous eyes. Whatever the rampage going with me, the moment I get my glimpse from that eyes, apart from my immense writing, I haven’t yet found a composition of phrases to describe those vivid moments of time. That maybe something a little more to get obsessed with, but the list goes on to reach out the stars, when those days just went through all of my living, flooding my soul and conscience with so much ecstasy to desire the will to nothing but to live.

Particularly there, the moments of living never longed much effort from my side, for their nourishment. But I got to feel the essence of life, only after perceiving those eyes. So the soul of those eyes were not something I desired in this impelling existence, but something that made me, to live the life I’m living, with desire. It certainly drove me to a mile where I went utterly whelmed, when life too, taught me an inspiring fact of nothing but falling. And the scene sequenced well with nothing but losing. There was a time once I thought my life and this person were just one afterall, but only a little later that I perceived, I am wrong, when that one drifted off the path apart from the one that I’m walking. I’m not sure of a proper way to talk with this life, so I’ll try to put up with words, yet I lack most the places due to my own immaturity. Still I loathe the actions that are made bluntly under the labels of maturity. Days  mostly ended up with nights where I’m throwing out questions on what’s and how’s and some little why’s. And nights often wrapped up with days blooming with much opportunities, for seeking and solving the last night mysteries.

Life is an utter oblivion sometimes, yet it drives to be a mystical intimacy at some points. To say frankly, just one or some sequence of chapters aren’t enough to decide the wild nature, this life holds. Yet to know and feel certain facts and measures, one person is all it takes to teach me all, apart from the preachings of life as well as myself. One person, it takes for me to, grasp the whole constellation within my hold, and just the same one, for me the lothe the whole existence that I’m living, right now. The way that I feel towards life, is same as that I feel towards my parents and also it felt the same as for that one person of mine, but only in such rewindings. The vividity of living will urge only when one’s aware of the reality, the one’s living.  In the quest of writing, a writer will eventually reach a point where he’ll be overwhelmed with the the voices so as to end up with no words of choice, or a point where he’ll be just holding the pen, over a blank page so as to end up with no voices or anything at all. Life may not give things that I wish for, or crave for, not all the times. But it does throws out some handouts and plays, that will surely leave me stumbled or stunned to the heaven and hell. What I’m seeing might be linked with, what I might have wished to see, not all the times. But I never got the custom as dropping, the desire to wish. What I speak, mostly does sync with, what’s that went on my mind, not all the times. But much many were just smothered and faded away, at the very point where they appeared. Although, when it comes to the hearing part, music is the only thing, that often ties with what I’ve desired to hear, all the times. No ‘but’ here.

From the stories and tales that I perceived so far, I don’t think of much factors, considered to be a shame, for a human individual. In fact, as for myself, failing to live the existence that I’m provided with, is the only shame, that I would ever regret. Being born as a human among the enormous diversities of this wild nature, is something that dawdles amongst a profanity and a boon. So, the authenticity of life is something inimitable for each and every living, just something not to be fairly underrated or overestimated.