Pain is something I see,

I call it my glee.

It's more than just circumstance,

It's a string of irresistible snaps.

I wish I were a ray of hope instead,

But my words are haphazard,

And the meaning's twisted.

Things I do are lie,

Things I say are cryptic.

I think living is a crime,

And the ones who don't commit it die.

You always have to create new worlds to survive because you never know when the older one will leave your side. And then, all you'll have is hurt, that you'll have to carry it all alone. That is why, without an ounce of guilt, go ahead, and explore and live.

Love hurts, loving hurts, but it is what thrives at the end of the day. LOVE. A four lettered word, which contains the universe.

Do we all write because we are in pain?

Are we incapable of thinking from our brain?

Please picture a place without you in it

Empty the unspoken

And stop to scream

the mornings are the same as they used to be

They are just as pretty as they used to be

There is an unbroken silence in that space

Because you're not in it

you can't fixate your gaze

The space is asking for answers you never give

It's trying to breathe through

trying to feel real

Do we all write because we are in pain?

A glass of rum, is it what takes to forget our brain?

I have come across a multitude of omens. They seem to be telling me that it is time to move on and get on to the things you're going to be proud of. They are asking me to take the leap of faith, get moving, be bold, and be a better me.

They seem to be screaming the words "potential" at me. They scream and tell me I am looting myself of all the potential. They seem to be telling me to make that journey, to move on, and change the path I'm on. They're telling me that the wind is about to change for good and it's up to me to spread my wings or keep them tied behind me. They tell me life is waiting to happen, all at once.

Opportunities are lined up for me. I am ready to challenge myself and look at new horizons. They are yelling at me to make life happen, dreams happen. They are begging me to put a halt to self-doubt and live my best life.

And you know what... I am going to do just that. I am going to fly. I'll fly.

Only if there were some kind of place where we went to purge our emotions, I am not talking about a movie theatre. no. Just a place where you can just be and the people around you are just like you, going through things, and, they understand quite well how it is to go through things. I am not talking about the office of a therapist, no. A place where you can travel to and look around the most beautiful, exquisite scenes, presented just for them, for people with broken hearts, scars, people with incompetencies, and incompetencies that they have never been able to go above and beyond.

Don't we all wish life were like plays? Act 1, scene 1, 2, 3, 4, act 2, scene 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, act 3. Yes, it is not too far off but is it the same? How do you know you're done with Act 1 and now will enter 2? The baggage? Yes, it is the same. But where is the assurance? Have we moved on ahead? Are we stuck? What are the telltale signs? The curtains? Hmmm... it makes one think!

Things would've been much easier! But guess what, dear writer, they are not. Getting back to the "purging place", is there any at the end of the day? Nahhh! There is none but that is what plays and movies are for... they give us that half-assed certainty of what will never be in the "real".

The only thing one can do is be bold. With or without certainty. Cause TBH, she is one tough crowd to please. Nike isn't wrong. Just doing it is our only solution, the only way out. It can make you cry, weep, and beg for mercy, but it will sustain you in the long run. It will please your soul because it knows you did it all. You gave it your all. People who regret are the ones who either sit back and see their lives roll in front of them because they are too scared, or the ones who say, " wish I did not do that, then things would've been better". But does either know what would've been? Uncertainty strikes back. So why is it not better to just do it, and make that leap of faith, to be real it can suck hard both ways, so why not just do it? Guilt and regrets have different forms, they strike, but you are saved when you know you did everything you could've.

So be bold. And watch movies and plays to purge the pain, anxiety, hate, love, and fear. But do it. Just do it. Be bold.

P.S. Trust me, dear writer, you will be proud of yourself. Every time I have done things boldly, without a doubt, I have reaped and reaped. And I have been so proud.

I think I'm evil

And I don't know why

I can barely see things

In a better, gracious light

I am an ungrateful bastard

A witch in disguise

I am seldom forgiving

I keep a tab of every mark

But the funny part you see

Is that I am meanest to myself

In self-analysis

I tear myself apart

I shatter myself into pieces

And I pick myself apart

Then I pray for someone to save me

That 'someone' though is just a farce

I think I am evil

But I rescue myself each time

I rescue myself from me

I am the hero of the victim

And an enemy to the witch in me.

"And at last, I see the light."

I have treated prose as a journal from a very young age, from the time in the past when I refused to talk to real people. So here I was, writing for myself and just for myself! I never had anything great or extraordinary to say but what I found here was nothing less than sheer gold. Every poem and every writer I was able to connect with was a blessing.

Just like in the old times, I don't have much to say today as well. All I wanted to do was come here, write, and revel in the things of the past.

'If eternity were a place,

We would have been humans of glass.

We would've shattered with a gust of wind,

Only if eternity was a place.'

#eternity #wind #young #journaling

I love creating the worlds unknown. I love writing about people who don't really exist but exist only through my words. I don't know what it really is. Maybe it is the sense of control or maybe the power of being able to express my self through my words. Or maybe it is the sheer creativity of how the characters and the settings come together and create a story which can be read and understood by many and not just my own self. Whatever it is, I don't really mind, I adore this feeling. I feel alive when I see my fingers gliding on the keyboard and the sound of every key, the sound of every error I make and the way that I am always able to correct it. I wish life was like that too. I wish we were able to mend mistakes and sometimes be like one of our favorite characters about whom we talk about in our stories. The feeling of being able to build up worlds untold and told altogether. It is about mixing and matching your dreams and your experiences. I love being one of those people who actually know how beautiful is this feeling and how weirdly empowering it can be. In hopes of being able to write some tales that would be read by many, I thank you prose and everyone who have had my back through these virtual doors.

#tales #keyboard #gratitude #writing #doors #virtual #theprose #alive #stories #story #empowered #magical

I used to write when I was sad. I had so much to say, so much to talk about. My friends, the closest had no idea what I was going through but Prose did. Prose knew so much, everything even the people around me didn't. This place understood my broken language even when I myself couldn't understand it. And now years later I am happy, I am thankful because Prose you helped me out just by being a place I could go to when I felt alone as heck. I am so thankful and proud of this community because I know we are far away from the toxicity that has built up on the rest of the internet. I am so thankful for all the support and I never plan on leaving this place because this place makes me feel gold.

Thank You Prose.

#prose #thankful #love #thankyou #sad #community #istillexistbecauseihadyou