Forgiveness

I exist in a state of oxymoronic aesthesia - finding beauty in the juxtaposition of conflicting thoughts and forms, enraptured by the implicit poetry of literal improbabilities.

Stemming the tide of the humanist convulsion. The hemorrhage of reason and thoughts amidst the torrential emotion; anger. Actions misconstrued, words irreparable, bonds broken, unremedied mistakes floating about like an endless nightmare… Just as time cleansed us of our follies and sins, the revelation of the inexorable truth lays bare.

It takes strength to forgive just as it takes strength to say “I Love You.”

I believe everything should have a closure, an end, especially relationships...

Yes, even broken ones…

A Breather

The requiem of time sung by the ticks and tocks. Am I closer to who I am to become, or further from who I want to be? Will fate close the gaps of uncertainty or bring me to another state of fluency? I ponder...

I came back in search of answers, but only to find more questions... Irrelevancy struck in accord with the spurious mind. Eventuality is never what one imagined, but one precedes. In this temporal reunion, I’ve only wanted one thing and nothing more... I just wanted your time, but that seems to be the hardest thing to ask for...

Time makes the heart grow fonder... It happened to me... But did it happened to you? I wonder...

I need a breather... I need to escape from here and there... To escape to a place where nothing ever matters.

And that place, is when I stare right into your eyes...

The Strangers

In these choices I make, and the paths we invariably crossed. I got acquainted with the strangers I once passed by. The degree of separation amidst the density of population, succumbing to the flinch of mere coincidence or the perpetual work of fate; I exist…

Across the billions of statistical possibilities, across the continents that bind the Earth into one, yet in this quiescent vicinity we decree. Where lines of destinies intertwine, crossing paths in various directions, we subsist along the subsets of fate. Meeting and knowing the various characters that will change our lives forever.

At the shores of the dream to another world, you are the very reason for me to stay. The anchor of my soul to this very place I called, home…

I’m coming back…

That Call

As each day passes, I find myself getting closer to seeing you. Yet with each second, I find us drifting further apart. In this hectic rota ensuing our lives, we spoke lesser. Everyday I thought of calling you, yet time and again, you’re never around.

In this solitude of an eternal linger, nights like these just made me think of many things… In this melancholic silence, I waited every night for that call. And every time the phone doesn’t ring…

I know it’s you not calling me.

Dreams

Things remembered amidst the space between slumber, things forgotten when one is awake. Where the deepest laters of memories become the outmost layers of memories that in turn become the outmost layers of one's dreams.

Which is reality? Which are illusions? One cannot tell amidst the languor upon an awakening. Yet in this lassitude are remnants of the past dreams and memories.

Or perhaps they are: At the same time, both truth and fiction.

A vast nebulous with no boundaries... An emptiness equivalent to my own existence. I dreamt such a dream... A never ending dream... And in this dream I saw you…

I saw us.

Solo

Solo

A singular entity mimicking the flow of time, in a constant drag against relativity. All thoughts and form, coagulates into a stream of endless circumvolve. A depiction of time in it’s endless dilemma, ticking into moments of trajection atop the numbered face. And as time unwinds… The Earth begins shifting…

Shift

Reflections of self, shadowed against the planes of life. What we see is not what we get… As we shift along the sands of time, we grow into a different perspective. Some shadows larger than ourselves, some conquered by our dislocation, yet they are all conjured by our own thoughts and imagination. No matter how taunting our past might silhouette against the now, it’s all upon the shift of ourself to conquer the then… As life fades to cessation, all that’s left are just two colours. White and black.

Two

The amount of movements at any one time. A dual plate against the balance of everything equal. But there is no egalitarianism… In this double edged sword of humanity, ideology separate us. But dreams and anguish bring us together. We are all just pushed into the circumstances that evolve along the prior and latter.

Push

Moving through the salient seas, against the waves that push us back. We build bridges only to cross them and burn them behind us eventually, with nothing to show for our progress except a memory of the smell of smoke, and a presumption that once our eyes watered. We are here not because we choose to, but because of the limited choices we are given…

And it ended…

I Miss Her

I’m beginning to take things as they come, paginating each day and thoughts upon the leaves of expired time. As I pined for her on a daily basis, the only solace I could seek, was the photos of our past. Frozen bits of time, thawing at each reminisce. Conversations and messages, archived at the vicissitudes of various conjectures.

There’s so much I want to know, so much I want to say. But amidst the distortion of time and space, the closest we could ever be, was through the sonant quaver of digital remoteness surmised within the span of an hour, or less... Sequestered by the vast expanse of distance in kilo miles yet connected by just a few numbers.

Echoes of her resound in my head… Dreams of her brought me closer to where I once was and where I will be, and as our last touch still tingle at my fingertips. Rekindling the sparks of every single moment… I see her again… I just hope she remembers them like I do.

A hundred thousand miles away, how can I let her know that I missed her more than any words could ably say…