Craziness, to me, is a weird idea because I believe that everyone, here, is some kind of crazy. It is an idea against the ideals of the society that the ‘crazy’ people live in. I have a lot of queries regarding these ideals. To me, the society where I live in currently is crazy.
Humour seems interesting to me. The people who practice it, how they find the will to laugh and make others laugh in tough and trying situations.
Keep your pride aside.
Relationships don’t work in this way.
Nobody is completely wrong or right.
You should guide
them. What you feel you need to convey.
You are much awaited. Though, surely, I will not lie on the floor and spread myself out for you to come and walk over me but there is a space in my heart and in my life only designed for you to come and make yourself comfortable.
Dreams are known strangers. Sometimes, you drive them and at the other times, they drive you. Sometimes, the steering rides out of control. At times, they make you question the moralistic values you hold.
I can’t pinpoint or put a finger on it. You seeped into me slowly and steadily. You and me have become comfortable in the space that we provide to each other. I am waiting to see you live for the first time and believe it or not, I am doing this willingly. Didn’t I say before that I feel like I know you? You are not so stranger to me as you should’ve been.
No inspiration to write,
experiencing writer’s block,
pen’s nib stuck on a spot
remaining in that state so immobile.
It is the lullaby of a child
but also the adult’s song.
It makes your heart mild
but your build strong.
A lot of the early poets and authors refer to poetry as something to look down upon. Some try to bind it in verses, definitions and distinctions while others are still figuring out its techniques and methods through the use of the same throughout the process.
A question of extremities—
To be or not to be?
To be shackled within the ways of the world
or rather release the mind, soul and body.