The generosity of life never compelled me
Neither did it stopped me from breathing
So, I took a break from the unfair bastard,
And died.
...
not that I don't remember
I concur with the memory upto nostalgia,
and wanna say as such in the way
I want to…
...
Fragments Of Myself
The generosity of life never compelled me
Neither did it stopped me from breathing
So, I took a break from the unfair bastard,
And died.
Yes, I know what I just said
And as existential as nihilistic it may sounds
the demand for closure of this story
is mere an epiphany which
acted towards breathing
the actual reason of re-emerging is
still an enigma to me,
the reason for writing is a paradox;
The only truth I found after restarting was
dying changes everything-
it broke me into pieces with smooth, rough, and uncanny edges
It broke my soul into pieces
of judas, jesus, jehovah, a poet ,
a painter, a moron, and etc
I know the fact that
the more I progress the less it generates to oneness
apart from living within myself-
thus, I will never be the sane or same one person at a time
I never think of the consequences of my doing what is right, and
whenever am wrong I fight with thyself
might the rationale of it is
juxtaposed in thoughts and nostalgia and epiphany
hence, I am more than myself and,
myself is many