A wander into the present.

I don't need to wake up to this time. I don't need to write this post. But my mind wanders and it won't stop unless I write. I don't want it to stop wandering, letting something off the plate though. 

I see 

Since I was one year old

I watch 

Since I was seven

I notice 

Since I was twelve

I dream

Since I was eighteen 

I observe

Since I was twenty two

I have only been blank since then. Nice story to ponder. 

Trying to see, watch, notice, dream and observe, but blank stares at walls and books and screens and mirrors are all and whole from a while.

What am I thinking? 

What do I do?

Such infinity..

And I am just stuck.

I write poetry to circumscribe,

But unleash myself in innocence.

Deeper into the outer space,

Narrowing and objectively,

I stare.

My mind wanders and eyes blankly stare at infinity, they are bright, both of them, equally writhed by questions and many probable answers. 

I wander with my mind into something that leads upto nothing, but it can not be nothing, so it is something. Yes, it's all mine, from beginning to end.

Deliberate dilemma

I'm in deep dilemma from several years, and today I don't want to stop writing at all. Deeply I have thought about things happening around me, people and places. I have lived more inwardly than outwardly. I have learnt, crammed, understood many facts in unique ways.. And yet I want to see a different life ahead. Mathematically, I will live as pathetically as I have lived before. 

Above thought was just stopped by another, that me and life are no different things. I am a life. I don't want to be all philanthropist about it. So let other things flow. 

Different spheres, and their Venn diagrams now appear before my eyes and none of it makes sense. Wholly, it's all intersection, again and again. I have been searching answers, everywhere.. Who knows the right question. 

I am no one. If you know, let me.

Laughter

Laughter. I have never thought so hard before for a right word, but I think laughter is an eternal chaos. I am assertive, anything can be laughed at. A murder, a discovery, a religious fight, a book, a war, a friendship, a relation, a baby, a mother, a deer, a main hole, a body(quite often, laughable bodies), all colours, all blacks and whites, a television, a vision, a man, a homosexual, a congress of millions, a life of zillions.

Fog

What if, all human beings are projections of everyone else's thoughts, pictures, dreams, imaginations etc. what if they are just projections, and the souls that everyone know is a key..an anagram or jumbled clue to a different reality. What if I am a projection of someone's thoughts..someone somewhere wanted a girl like me, and I, unsure of my reality keep living in dilemma that why can't I understand everything. 

Morning After

Just woke from a four hour sleep, I felt that I've been haunted all night long. I was haunted down to every inch of myself by my words, sounds and incomplete sentences. It feels pukish and empty. All the liquid in my body is gone. I was in a horrifying poem. Sun shone, and all that had been, vaporized into air. Clutter fills my mind or from wherever I choose words. Nothing is fixed, all can be zero and infinite at close quarters. What is there to hang onto? What is there to remember in the morning after? 

So it goes like this...

Sadness always pushes me to write, and that's how I move, with a step ahead and a step back. Alright.
No thoughts yet longing for silence. Longing.
Quiet!

This post is about irony.

In the darkness of meadows,
and in the heat of sun,
In the frosts of a candle,
and in the blues of the shun

In the dusk of the eyes
and in the glow of the dawn
In the sadness of a smile
and in the love of the blown

Uprooted like the grass
feeling of the balded earth
in the rusted brass
in the broken hearth
in torn out trees
dismal and grey sky
wet and cold breeze
twisted wry
and lost stories
a fear prevails
a fear in the deep
proving that I am weak
gazing through my soul
into the deep
leaving, I am leaving
something behind
yet, I am looking for a sign.


Everyone looks sad, when i am.

-knightesS

Missing people is one thing, the other one is 'I don't know'.

Well, thats pretty much I wanted to say.

Dilemma

Knowing everything is a bad sign. I laugh mentally on stupid talks people have when they sit on coffee-tables or at tea-times.

I tend to analyse them as of usual sort, this is the human vicinity I always have, everywhere. I thrive on the idea that is more abstract and of little worldliness, and I can't decide if it is wrong.

I always miss Steadiness of thoughts(between the lines, I avoided the feeling of, if i should write 'steadiness and thoughts').
I rush, rush, rush rush rush rush to the end, sudden and immediate wonderfulness something can bring into my life. Everything real or abstract, wandering in my mind, fumes away. It puts me in a dilemma.

Am I lost or am I keen? I am not.
  

The distinction!

Sometimes I might think about world, more specifically my part of the world. From the very moment when I opened my dry eyes to see the (wet) world, I must have been traumatized or may be surprised. Yeah! my part of the world was always new, brand new, and therefore I was inexperienced and glowing with curiosity, and even yet today its the same. For they are yet to realize that everything is as new as a new moment of time, I am at some other level of thinking. I know I will never get bored of the things around me, there is lot more to know 'on my own', besides my obtained habit of making prejudices.

Even thoughts are never the same, they vary with the passage of time. Now when I put a full stop to the previous line, my thoughts are still lingering (no full stop for them), I now have a question, 'what is time', and more questions like 'is it just a day after night or a night after day', 'how is it passing' , 'is it going to end' for every part of the world or only for few (because I know it will end for me some day, like it began), 'who would know that time has stopped', 'would they have any knowledge of time', these questions might have been repeated in the past, but this present is new combination of time and person and mind, then conclusively its never the same.