Landscape of soul

The changing seasons so much reminds me of the change creeping inside me. The change I am looking at for some time now to rejuvenate my nascent existence. A rightful season stay long enough to make it attached to our being and to feel nostalgic about. Yet seasons come and go and come back to repeat a pattern simplifying moulds of our conscience. I can see the winter in my face and it is just another season of hope that promises cold with warmth, sun shone upon my face that kills monotony of night when I wake up to stare out of the window blankly.
Life is not based on the rule not any not few but the lessons learnt. It is cosmic chain of events and I believe it’s equally hard to predict one event and its timing. Here I am sitting on roof of my home all remote into me looking to break the monotony of the evening, watching the sun go down. I remember back in school when I never stayed home in the evening always out with friends its and that but it’s all different now. They are all left behind.
A matter of being stuck in a situation where no one wants to be unless left to his own will. It has been an utterly desperate setting something like a conspiracy around me which keeps on impersonating my actions.
I certainly believe in power of oneself there can’t be no existence if there were no unreasonable men and for that matter egotism paves the way for altruism. In cruel times, the situation I felt so miss-fit in, I felt like I was chosen to dig my own grave. Through the times say for 4-5 years I challenged myself to take up something that can bury my guilt of not getting being able to do justice with myself. I rarely had the opportunity to break free from demonic possession of middle-working-class mindset, though I was miles away into my hood I cared for the safe road but somewhere the fear is deep rooted inside my bones, like the air I breathe.
Speaking of the middle class values my upbringing have been a sort of domain I believe could have been more of progressive and typically political. As for progressives are concerned in a general manner they kind of breaks free from middle class attaching themselves to the new world order. The order that need not be classified as rebellious but essentially revolutionized to bring across the change in politics and roots connected to the same, a qualitative argument between socialism and communism. I want to be one. The past has been a farce, still blazing echoes on inside. No one is to be blamed for it but the typically asking circumstances did it in.
Over and over again the ghost that was lost in time comes back to me to scorn me to drag me out of my bed threatening to unravel what is left to of me of my conscious efforts. I love this ghost because of its honesty in keeping me in tune with myself. Least, for its features. Valiant mourning’s aren’t any good to counter them instead I have chosen to get going steadily.
Back when I entered college as a fresher my anger used to be utterly devastating for me, it shattered everything in that moment of a fit, depriving me of some conclusive experiences.
To this day, I believe I am in search of what is mine, not necessarily looking for it but trying to discover in the process and if that comes good I embrace it and if it don’t- equally good, I learn. A small pie from the divine cake. It’s these small pieces put together form life. We are all surrounded by opportunities to make it big in our life only thing remains to be maneuvered is how to take it and when to. First step is always the most difficult, rest you can tip toe. One fine Sunday afternoon I was walking in a mango orchard, there was a serene silence, the one of within. My thoughts go inward and outwards both for the same matter; this is how I give myself something to rejoice on. Too much.
It’s some tenacity of a mystical sort that fringes me inside to do more and generalize my emptiness with my actions or in other way the emptiness reminds me of what I have to do, to sit myself up on the very outset of perennial ocean of feeling that open up horizons studded with stars and sometime blank sky. And I keep on staring into the blankness not knowing what lies beneath it, still something is so fascinating about it. This hunger will set me free from my cravings, someday. On that fine day I’ll know what it was to crave for something and not to have it; it will be very different from what I would have in that moment.
The morgue is more alive when it comes to really feeling good factor and I just pass it up as a regular parade. Well, someday it was up to me to make believe myself of my actions and accept them, and forgo the brunt’s of past to heal the future and I suppose that is it.
There are hopes and there is a need of action that have to be taken right away to accentuate these fluidic beliefs that I am garnering against my set of breeding, so watery that they melt every time.
I do deserve this & I don’t deserve this- goes the conflict in my mind. I choose to close it to ensure the intensity deserved for the moment. There are lots of things that are to be done and normally they come to my mind randomly. Like rain leaving some part of the body unwashed and others too wet to feel it. The whole body goes numb. Mostly it reminds me of my present state.
Insane feeling of rot, guilt they all hook up with me. Its mote tormenting then it used to be.
Like when I look at pictures of some old lost friends, I know what is wrong and what needs to be done. But it rarely materializes. As I know, too, I don’t have to. I am guilty of having lost they due lack of communication or out of my words, but I am not in the wrong.
There is nothing more complicated than a human relation. Indirectly it asks for honesty in a way or some. Working behind the scenes I am learning. Talking about the predilections, there is no attachment I projected for me that I could have not lived without as they say. There is just no one like that, I admit, I don’t know what it’s like to be that, I am learning……………………………………………………………