My mind is locked somewhere. In the lull of sluggishness. I desperately seek to find a way out of this maze. And yet all I see is blackness. A void it might be somewhere. But it is not. Words have been my refuge for quite a while. But now they aren’t as poetic as I thought them to be. It isn’t like words left me. They find me in corners of work. They find me behind those crumbled notes. They find me in the smiles of my pupils. They even find me hidden behind ideas I pen for the world. But then they don’t help be my recluse. In rhymes and fictions. In being my catharsis. It is as if some dust settled on top of my creative cerebrum. I shout, I find. But I am way too mechanical to shake them up. I miss that part of me. That part which relish a rainy night amidst some romance of the words. That part of me that couldn’t sleep without making love to those books which were sprinkled with dreams. I have made quite much of a sense with my life. And in between lost quite bit of love I showered to my heart through my insane pieces. Maybe. Maybe not.
Insanity often defines me. And is insanity really that bad? If I wasn’t insane, I wouldn’t be that passionate about my life. I wouldn’t be doing what I do then. I would have been struggling to survive if I wasn’t in love with my mundane tasks. Now I am at peace and yet that is all to it. I live life a day at a time. I relish my daily dose of music and weekly dose of movies. I pamper myself to be lazy on slow days. I am doing what I should and slowly learning to grow. I share a drink or two with my laughters. I afford whatever I wanted to once. I splurge. I earn. I live fully. But then am I not forgetting some other major parts of me? Or has technology taken over us so much that we don’t let our brains have time for reading sonnets and writing poetry?
Whatever it be, it’s good that I am writing today. Might not be very much. But I am. And its not some professional paper with a deadline. It’s an unedited flow of words directly from the heart. And maybe the brain. We all should let ourselves be unedited sometimes. Even our pictures can be so at times. Rawness isn’t that bad. Its real. Its beautiful. Its you. And its me.
One should be sharing love in this insane world of yours. Even with strangers. For they can inspire music in us at times. They can be our muse at times. Or maybe a momental inspiration. And you, scared people, go tell your loved ones of your love. It will be worth it. Hell, tell that to your crush too. Who knows they might be struggling with the thought that they are unloved in this world. And that one word will be enough for them to live another day.
Be mad. Be crazy. Be insane. Be loving. Be you.
P.S. : I just realised this is my first post this year. Hope 2017 treating everyone good. Been truly fantastic for me 🙂