On Ramblings

 

The will to live and adjust to demands is like an endless quivering adventure. Man, at a point will have to choose the best daffodils from the unending glows of flawless daffodils. To have gut is quite relative to the species involved.

Perhaps, having gut is to face, caress and hug the appealing thorns. To another, buy gut, put it on like a ‘Danshiki’, let it speak falsehood, in that falsehood, you knew it would produce tons of victories, you like it and it is okay for you.

Then to another, ‘let us build a home of gut, let us embark on the dare journey’, and it goes on like a train in an ocean hovering and hovering till dawn.

Truth is to take a stand and walk in the line, that uncertain lines filled with numerous uncertainties. Life lurking looks lifted you to a strange shift.

Fear is being scared to accept the truth. The human mind is a composite conflict for endless strings.

Perhaps, in this writing, there is a disjointed subject matter, however, to live is to see through the life itself. To fathom a piece is to embrace it in its bare state of angle.

Angle of simplicity or complexity? anger or peace? confusion or delusion? beauty and scars? good and bad? life and death? words and opposite? the singular or plural? However, perception lies within each volition and capacity.

And to the young writer or poet living for that morrow, for that heightened state of exposure for the creator and creations, ‘good morrow to our waking souls’.