Lost chances and innumerable possibilities which could have been. Only if it meant to others as it did to me.
The ones, only i keep alive under the lie of Hope.
Only if they closed the door on me I would be forever grateful. A closure I am not ready to make. But they won’t oblige me with their absence.
The found and lost again, of what was, what could be and what isn’t anymore. Hanging by a thread , swinging like a pendulum, taking a free fall while the parachute is in some others hand.
And so I continue being brave or foolish or sucidal or dillusional . Too much too soon all synonyms here. And I know it. Ofcourse I do.
How little It takes for Memories of yesterday to become Memorials of today.
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Midnight. A spell of rain waking me up from a sound sleep. Your thought. It must have been a coincidence. That I think, you must be thinking about me. Would that be too much of love and too little of logic? And if so, would I stop thinking that way and start thinking the other way?
Everything is possible. Anything is possible. Nothing is impossible. Can thoughts be self-controlled? Self-goverened? Artifical? After differentiating between ‘thoughts-that-are-good-for-you’ and ‘thoughts-that-come-to-you’ one could filter out the part from whole. Tame oneself on the good part. That’s how parents teach a kid to act in situations. Machinic. Giving lesser importance to bad thoughts, than good. Theoretically this theory is the most ideal one. Do good plus think good add be with good people summed up with ‘god-knows-something’ good. Don’t do bad, subtract bad thoughts avoid being with bad people erase all your bad memories.
Its morning now. Cloud and your thoughts haven’t left me yet. It must bw a coincidence. Perhaps.
Rutvik