Sometimes I Think This World Is Cruel And Unjust But Then I Remember How I Dropped My Wallet When I Was

She finally voiced  her deepest desires in vivid detail, she just disguised it all as a distant dream.

- G.L. Angelone

I found this on Pinterest and am crying for some reason-

In a world

it all came to a halt.

Unbreathing,

disrupted time,

it can no longer flow.

In this world

we are alone,

grasping,

pushing,

climbing—

falling—

Or are we?

Thus we wonder

“what is life?”

In my world

I begin clutching at my chest,

sheltering my heart,

wishing to live

one more day.

Here I hide,

running from what,

you say?

All.

All that breathes

while I cannot.

All that feels,

while I bear its weight.

All that smiles,

for I do not know how.

Whoever first said that poetry is dead failed to provide the autopsy. If poetry is dead, what a rowdy and glorious ghost. Poetry haunts. Poetry permeates the walls we put up. Poetry startles us awake and into our own aliveness. Poetry rustles the hairs on the backs of our necks and chases us into more compassionate rooms. Though it is difficult to change a stubborn mind, poetry can change our hearts in an instant.

Andrea Gibson and Megan Falley, from How Poetry Can Change Your Heart

02/03/2021

It’s not me.

It wasn’t me being so out of it that everything seemed dull.

There was and there is a reason.

No overthinking ended up being futile insofar as it became a starting point for a new series of events.

Things started making sense as some behaviors connected themselves with words spoken by the people in question.

Incongruent actions were carried out by people who are no more coherent themselves.

It’s okay as much as it will not worsen.

I will not just bear with it and that is a given.

———————————————————————

My world has yet to change.

What has fundamentally morphed is only myself,albeit I have to carry on like this for a while longer.

I must work on myself without trying to find distractions,whether they force themselves in my life or I let them in willingly.

It all depends on my capability of consciously making the decisions which are waiting in line and have been for a while.

“Have you ever sat there, looking into space and feeling a tight grip wrapped around your heart, it’s squeezing and squeezing not allowing you to breathe and slowly slowly you start to feel the tears fall down, and one after another the fits start to happen and you just can’t stop it. It hurts so bad it’s indescribable. People say love hurts, but that words used are so vague, “love hurts”, no love kills, and it doesn’t just take your breath away it takes away a piece of you, making you feel fragmented, shattering you into small different pieces where you can’t even get yourself back up on track again. That is what love is. Not the holding hands, forehead kisses. It’s the feeling you feel when you break down into a million pieces. It’s when you can feel your heart shatter against your rib cage. It’s murder. That is love.”

Message From an Atheist

We live in a world, where people are influenced by others of their kind through mere words, the power of speech, as they call it, has an effect far greater than most physical,aggressive actions, but "the feelings perceived are not necessarily the feelings expressed", which in most cases, leads to an exaggeration of facts and in our very case led to the birth of the mother of numerous social evils, that we, as a species, face today. We call this glorified form of tribalism, Religion.

It is astounding that years of people just talking about the existence of a higher power can convince their sons and grandsons of firm, unquestionable and rather unreasonable faith, when the same generation, for centuries, would not even believe that oppressing half of their population i.e. womankind, would not do harm, if not better.

Let me present you with a hypothesis, What if, a group of early men witnessed a bolt of lightning? What if, they started to believe that there were people in the sky that caused them and frightened as they were, felt the need to please these gods through sacrifices and offerings? What if all this offerings made them expect a divine reward? And what if all this misconception spread around like an infection, calling for discrimination towards those who refused to concur?

This hypothesis has several conclusions. Humanity fears that which it doesn't understand, it worships that which it fears and expects rewards for it's actions . As for the spreading, I believe that "Religion is just a chinese whisper game stretched for too long".

And the final conclusion is that people aren't very accurate when it comes to first impressions, often judging too soon about the nature of something, even if that something does not exist beyond their three pounds of grey matter.

"Religion is a fool's answer to another fool's question." People look for meaning in the physical world, they seek their place in all that comprises the cosmos without realising that the answer to their question is subjective, it doesn't have to be out there in religious texts, written by delusional old men, it exists in the mind, created by people themselves.

Now the question arises, why did the need for such a misleading lie of a system exist?, the answer is a simple one, hope, every man is a hero in his own story, and when this hero is spat on, knocked down, he can't help but give in to vulnerability, depression. This man and every other man needs this, beautiful lie, as a drowning man needs a rock to cling to while he catches his breath and there's nothing wrong with a system that gives him that, and I know that I'm no one to deprive them of that . But there's a whole another way to look at it, the man may never learn to swim if he doesn't let go of the rock that gives him a false sense of hope, that he will survive without battling the waves. Now I ask you to what end, are we going to allow this false sense of hope to take control over our actions? , the sooner humanity figures that out, the better, and if not, well then, "May God help us all".

-Pranjal Yadav

“I’ve got nothing to say but it’s okay.”

— The Beatles, Good Morning, Good Morning

“Dying is an art,like everything else.

I do it exceptionally well.

I do it so it feels like hell.”

What is a candle turned wax?

It has one fixed shape,its life has been drained and it is useless.

Nevertheless I can’t help viewing it as an object which still has much to give.

Yes,it has completed it’s life’s task;

Thus,hasn’t it been freed from the burden of needing a purpose?

Shapeless,vacuous,mutilated,yet—

free

As I sit here,staring at a newly lit candle,I can’t help seeing my life being mirrored in the flame.

It is not burning,it’s living.

Somewhat pliable,though it still holds its shape.

Much like myself,really.

I can bend myself to my own will,yet I am subject to the still air that engulfs me.

Am I living my life,or is my life living me?

Devoid of purpose,I grasp at the slightest shift taking place in my life.

My life-long friend has come to check on me.

It has never once left me,only side-stepped so as to witness how I would fare with knowing him gone.

It will forever be bound to me,and I to him.

A life-long friendship bringing excruciating pain in my bones,in my flesh,a drought that cannot be recovered from.

I am yours,and you are mine.

I regret our meeting as much as I treasure it.

Am I offering you a worthy companionship?

Drifting apart and sitting on the sidelines may be a good change.

They always say we will value the most what we had but ended up losing,don’t they?

Let’s put a seal on our friendship,celebrating our reunion and promising for it to be the last in a long time.

Feelings are feral things

Half of them want to be free

Half of them want to stay in their cage

Thing is

You can't leave the door open halfway

.

And you can't take the sound of them

Banging on the bars

Shrieking to be loosed

And you can't look them in the eye

Or you'll go insane

.

Feelings are feral things

Half of them want to be free

Half of them want to stay in their cage

Thing is

You can't open the door halfway

.

You can visit them sometimes

The pieces of you that live in a zoo

Just remember -- don't feed the animals

And never give the tiger the key.