Merci

Blood flows through the veins With an unmatched rhythm. Just like the traveller who knows not where he goes. With a deep sense of madness, he kills the time that flows.  His trail is chaotic. So is his head.  His life pumps in and out, in an indecisive stead. Thoughts flow through the brain, With an unmatched rhythm. Just like the brown earth, with thousands thumping on its crown. The lyre of existence plays.The sound of music never drowns. Golden eyes peep from above. They sleep, an illusion they dream. Illusions are realities though. A silence is a din, a whisper - a scream.  Love flows through the heart, With an unmatched rhythm. It flows like- Oh, wait. It has no rule. It is the beginning of anarchy. It is the enlightening of the fool. I could do with some sense. Conquer the world while I get. Yet I sit by the window and wait for you instead.

I started writing at the beginning of the year. And another friend started writing after me. And then another friend took after us. Writing is the best thing ever. Dreamers we are. Why don't dreams simply fall in our laps? The movie rockstar was based on one idea- only after you're hurt will the true artist come out in you. Maybe it's true. When I'm in total bliss, I cannot really write much. Irony of life, because I find writing beautiful. And how can you lose something beautiful when you are in bliss ? How does it make that bliss real? Some people are busy updating their blog posts. It feels nice to see they have found their outlet. And you can barely understand their random behaviour. When loved people chose to ignore you. They devalue you. Demean you. No matter what the reason is. It is not something you deserve. It shouldn't be forgiven. And you carry on your daily life wondering what happened and eventually not caring. Putting that strong face. And later ...