You Have Many Thoughts That Could Be Well Perceived By Few ( I Count Myself, Idk I Might Be Wrong Most
You have many thoughts that could be well perceived by few ( I count myself, idk i might be wrong most of the times) and those are truly magical. But don't you get scared living in your world of esoteric concepts an notions.
I seem to have missed this question earlier.
See, life is such that uncertainty is structurally inherent.
Do I sometimes have self doubts? Am I uncertain of things? - I certainly am. But life is a play. I am not very conversant with the deeper theories of quantum mechanics, but it is fascinating enough that an electron behaves both as a particle and wave, its velocity precarious and unquantifiable except in probabilities. Many ways, this is true about our lives too.
Perhaps the point of being alive is just being alive. We are cursed to make abstract theories about life, afterlife, before life, in the middle of the life life and so on. I am no exception. There are times when I am foolish enough to make theories and life invariably always quashes those beliefs. I have been humbled by life over and over again.
I am scared. Sometimes. Such is life.
But when I am in deep harmony with life, surrendering myself to its rhythm, joyfully ebbing on the undulating waves of highs and lows, I am deeply fulfilled. Grateful to be alive. To see and feel this miracle called world. It is so beautiful. So mysterious. And we are here for such short period of time. There is so much to marvel at. Let's devote ourselves to curiosity and gratitude. We will certainly grow old and die. What is there to lose? Just rejoice.
More Posts from Aakritisitaulaa and Others
Bitter expectation
I kept my door open
Hoping you’ll come by
Hoping you’ll notice how my eyes rained
Hoping that you’ll ask what happened
Hoping you won’t buy my lie
I kept my door open
With a burning believe inside
That you’ll stop by my side
Thinking you’ll comfort me while I mewl.
I kept my door open
Trying to comprehend if I was right?
Lingering till midnight
Stacking up coldness from January wind
Deceiving myself that it'll be my last try
I kept my door open
Well-known that it’ll all become a waste
Knowing that I should leave the rest
I kept my door open even after knowing how bitter expectation taste.
short story.
i am still on my teenage. i must say this is my most excruciating and painful journey i could ever think of. instead of making friends and enjoying, i am taking pills and working on myself. it doesn't feel bad to see other people having fun but sometimes my innerself blames herself for all the pain and i understand her very well.
WILL THIS END WITH ME ?
you are just a thought far away for deciding what you wanna be.
she is beautiful.
they envy her.
her face is as graceful as swan.
but they do not know all the scars in her cheeks are cleaned by the tears pouring down every night.
and her hands, they are burned, just like the clouds during sunset.
because tears are then fallen onto the hands and the flame of the skin has heated the drops in an extent that they are as fiery as lava.
her eyes resembles purity which her body defeatedly denies.
despite the grudges she hides beneath that skin, she look flawlessly perfect, indistinguishablely a moon.
-Aakriti.
Franny Choi, The World Keeps Ending, and the World Goes On
he wrote poetry all over my skin
and i fell in love as he went on
we played stupid silly games
till it was the time for dawn
in the darkness of night
everything was full of ecstacy
there happened many things
with starry sky and you and me
your hands are intimidating
and how sensually you speak
caramel brown eyes
conspicuous, alluring physique
that moment was perfect
and how you did me undress
your face was bright as city lights
i didn't want to see anything else
-august
he tortures me with his gaze, i am so stupid to fall for him.
-august/fictionflaws
Mary Oliver, from "Serengeti”, House of Light
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