The Untitled

The grass is always greener on the other side, even for those that appreciate the grass on their own side. Everything we have is belittled in comparision to things that we dont. Its quite sad really. Its like asking for the same pair of eyes for all the millions in the world. What we see is ours alone. No one sees it the same. And there's beauty in that. The unending yearning for that which is not ours is the true evil. 

So much easier said than done. I think therefore I am? Well I think too much. And that eats away at precious time for me to be doing things that make me who I am. But is it actions or thought that is more important, that defines a person? The juxtaposition caused by looking at things in the binary, trying to put things withing the realms of black and white.

I think too much. Yet too little of important things. What is important? One could go on forever this way. Or accept things as they are. Makes life so much easier. Yet screens us from the world of colour ahead. And that is such a shame.

I used to dream as a child. I dreamt like a child. With a child's imagination.
The world happened to me. I happened to the world. We collided. I wish it was sparks and lights. It was undending water and murky soil. Gave birth to a swamp. Of use for many. Desired by none.

Things happen is what I say. I would have loved the sparks the neighbor girl had with the world. But I see the sparks. It might have taken the heat of the sun scorching her through to the soul. And all I see are the sparks. I dont know. I never will. 

Where does the marsh belong? Who needs the swamp? Here and many. Sustaining. So many things. Nurturing. And continuing. Despite the exploitation and disgust and disdain. 

And it lives on, with a smile.

Forever Beautiful

It's beautiful. And fascinating. Unexplored. It pulls you in with all these trappings you haven't seen in a long long time. It takes the boredom and monotony of life away. It yanks you out of your comfortable little corner. And you're happy to be swept away by its strength and magnitude. It's brilliance awes you and you are stunned- gaping opened mouthed at it for a while. Somehow you don't mind that you stare at it dumbstruck. After all, a thing of beauty does not last forever. 

It is beautiful. And you watch it day in and day out. Never tiring. You're honoured that you're the one to find it. To be the one to speak of it and sing of it. To tell the world of it. 

It doesn't matter that you see nothing else. It doesn't matter that you are drifting away from everything and everyone else. They don't matter. This beauty does. 

It is a kaleidoscope. Changing colours. Gorgeous. Like a shape shifter. Changing form from one to the other. You are entranced, mersmerised.  Oh it leaves you, but only long enough for you to wish it back. 

But all good things must come to an end. So you begin to wonder. How long it'll last, how long it'll stay. It is no longer new, no longer fascinating. But you're fond of it. It has brought you so much joy. So many hours of unadulterated pleasure. And it does still. But it is slowly but surely losing its sheen. It no longer baffles you like it used to, no longer captivates. 

You've seen many like it come and go and few like it stay. So you don't give it much thought beyond enjoying day to day. As the days go by, you wonder, as always, will it stay? 

The ones who do have long lost their sheen and brilliance. But they precious forever. They have brought you themselves and kept you company over the years. They may no longer have the beauty of times past but they're forever beautiful in your eyes.

Being Incsecure

Secure. That's what I want to be. Secure in my knowledge,  my actions,  my thoughts, my beliefs, my love, my hate, my sorrow and despair, my happiness and joy. So I know I can stand firm and strong when things start to go awry. So I can lean on that security, that pillar of strength and draw from it. I want to be secure. I want to be Safe. 

But I'm not. It seems awfully weak. Like you don't have the strength to keep yourself up. Like you wont be able to keep the cynicism from creeping back in. Like you wont be able to believe again. Like it'll never end and you'll tire out trying to wish otherwise. Living in a reality that was never real. I'm not secure, far far from it.

I go back and forth. I go to  a place where I forget. I let the monotony of life muffle the sounds around me. the routine numb my mind so I don't notice. Let the flow sway me along the course.

But once in a while there'll be a good day. And on that day I remember. And it washes over me. Overwhelming me, stopping me in my tracks, making it hard to breathe. So i stop. Try to breathe. But somehow it won't subside. Beauty is all around me. happiness - people living their lives, nature in all its magnificent glory. And it hits me. Like something just fell on my chest and now the entire area is sore. I keep rubbing it to ease the pain but i find no relief.

I watch people walk away from me, never to take a second look back at me. It stings. I want to cry out, "Please wait! Don't leave me. I want you to please wait." But I don't. I watch people walk away from me. I run after. See their backs disappear till my poor vision is unable to make out their shapes anymore and I stop. 

I feel shitty. Incompetent. Insecure.

It's the most awful feeling in the world. I don't know if it was me, my thoughts or actions, I'm  no longer secure of any of them. In that moment, I'm back in the water drowning, thinking it'd be so easy to slip under the clam serenity. 

But my trusted aid surfaces. Rationalizes things for me. Puts things in perspective. Makes sense of the senseless. 

I know insecurity is a part of being human. That it'll let me grow, learn, and experience and appreciate the things in life if I don't let it take over. I know all that. but in the meantime, while it is crushing the life out of me, I cant find it in me to appreciate it. It brings me no joy for now. Just cold misery. 

Across The Ravine

We have a chasm between us, you and I. A grand canyon of abstract, inexplicable space.So mysterious, yet fearsome. But one that pulls us closer to the edge.

I tiptoe along all the edges. Looking, searching for a spot, a place where the chasm seems smallest.

I've been searching all this time. And once in a blue moon I'll find a ravine that seems to come and go. I never know. It appears and disappears. Like the phantom lights that streak across the night sky. So few and far in between they seem the fabric of dreams. The ravine seems a mirage. Yet it lingers. 

So I dare, and attempt to swim across. For though deep it may be,bottomless perhaps, it takes me to your world. I don't know what happens to those who get lost in the ravine. But I've heard stories. I've heard of our peoples meet. Some they say blend seamlessly. Some never able. 

As for me, I come and go. As and when the ravine does. I look enough like your peoples to stay a while. But eventually the differences stand out. I am after all from a different world. Then I find the ravine again. In your world. and cross it to return to the familiar clam of my land. And i stay - safe and sound. Till I feel the call of the worlds, to swim across the ravine again.