The hazel shades of dreams infused with delirium ...
A world marred with the savageness of expectations and the triumphs of vainglory, does one really care whether they live or breathe. The silences of our relationships are like shards of glass strewn on a carpeted floor. You step on them without seeing them and, before you know it, crimson trickles ...
Our universe, a mobile plasma, is a Dark Lady enticing our virility (or the lack of it). It shelters the realms of possibility, making its mark felt in our everyday lives, irrespective of whether we're aware or not. Like, the memory of sleep is as dormant as the act in itself. In fact, when someone utters the spoken word, does that person know that someone in the world, somewhere, is speaking the same words, although that might be in a different language?
We live in the microcosm of an associative nostalgia where everything that's uttered has either already been spoken aloud, or is being simultaneously spoken by someone we don't know in another destination, or is scheduled to be spoken in the future, and who knows? The latter might be in an identical context too. In fact, as homo sapiens of a sophisticated environmental outfit, aren't we drugged by this entire doll's house of the universe?
PS: Please excuse my lapses, for my intention was not to hurt any faith or belief or proven scientific theories.
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2 comments:
who said an earth sign cant be subtle, subtleness can even be compounded by words spoken loudly with loose ends, aint it true?
there has been intermitent flow and ebb of physicality, still this piece ... stirs you. Luvd the title :)
Can I say something? I know I don't make sense most of the times, but whatever I tried to explicate was observations.
Thanks for the comment
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