That feeling you get in that particular moment when you do not have anybody else to blame but yourself.
What a shame because you should know better, but again how could you have known?
On top of that striking guilt on your face, you cannot really do anything to change the situation.
You would like to tell yourself that everything will be alright but nothing tangible certifies it.
If you could see the future you would know and either enjoy the wait or self-terminate, but you don’t.
You would like to cry but the tears are dry because you know in life it happens and being a man crying is not part of your plot. Pain still grooms deep inside , all you can do is stare at your own reflection and state these words clearly with a sad expression ; man isn't this a bitch?
The term becomes a companion. The more times you say it,
the more trouble you encounter, the more internal strength you acquire.
Strength you have yet to discover because you always focus on what should instead of what is. Cursing is not working though it feels better than fighting.
The awful reality is still there; desires and wishes yet to be achieved withstood by one big tricky untruthful truth.
You.
You are the trick, the answer and and the truth you know.
Running is what you did when it came, in your defense everyone did run.
No one wants to face it and go against the truth, against themselves .
Illusion and reality seem like twins because after a long time you cannot tell them apart.
All you can do is sit tight and wait for the strong smite of days as they go by.
Other than keeping quiet the rest is just a useless chase and no one knows why it is everybody's case.
Happy, happy is the dreamland you want to reach.
But should anyone ask you;
You do not know where it is, nobody knows where it is.
Hopeless is the common make-up on everyone’s face as they go, perfect picture for a mind in ignorance.
Irony is the name that any wise man would give this game , because when there is less hope the players sit to faint.
surrender is their sweat which paints the ground.
The path of the wise is narrow; you eat but will fight for the swallow.
In silence you find the cure to absence and hence reduce the distance between you and yourself.
In the end when the peace starts to trend;
You will find the answer to no question
The walk to no journey because happy land is not a where but a how.
“Uncover the key of the sweet mystery and find out the hidden beauty, the unpronounced love towards thyself”, says the unwritten scriptures painted on the walls of our consciousness.
Ganzart
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