Fleeting Muses.

And now I know even more that when my heart felt complete when it met you, it was right. Despite all that's happened. It knew what it was looking for and it had found the soul that lived within you. It is the saddest thing it has experienced where the souls didn't actually become mates. One of them craved but the other didn't let it reach. The efforts to retrieve what was found in that first glance remained futile and it was lost. Lost the belief in dedication, lost the belief in fate, only more in the emptiness that comes with the life in an era of the Earth where everything is smoked by pollution and population. Now I know every time my heart ached because of these two, it was as they corrupt the planet and beings not just at one level.

Written on: 1st May 2016 Edited: 22 February 2017 (Trying to remember the pieces to actually make it understandable as initially it was just a brain dump. No piece of cake I tell you). It is weird how we get caught up in worldly affairs when we think we are not. And then we try to get detached thinking that we have become worldly. What! The blog is where my thoughts led me to but the lines are where it started - just putting it out there even if it all might seem totally out of context. I'll try to explain it my best. What happens with me is that I like to think that everything is going well even if it's probably not because as most, m not completely aware of myself and more importantly, I love living in denial (which will, no kidding, be probably the name of my autobiography)!! A lot of times when I think things are going well is because during a short period of time, I confuse monotony and temporary happiness with peace. And in such a case, I think m getting detach

Some days, some months, some years are like realizations. They will mean a lot when you look back but you'll be glad those are over. Most of the times, it's only rare that good times are realization times. And it might just be that during all the good times, you won't realize that they are great. Which is ironical. It is difficult - this life. I don't know how to live it, what is the best way to approach it. I've started looking at it as a problem to solve unlike previous years where I was just living in the moment. Here I am, trying to find the secret - the secret to love, secret to success, secret to happiness - every day it's a pursuit that I chase unsuccessfully, trying too hard. The perspective is lost, of what's actually important; I'm caught up in the world's way of right and good. Get a place, get a car, go places, talk to people, stay in love - everything is now a task that I am to do. I don't know what's real and mine anymore. I

I haven't written in a really long time - not on my blog, not in my journal, nowhere. Looking for reasons, I write this, hoping to find some answers unraveling my thoughts into words. Logically, there are many but when I ponder over them, there is only one that really matters -- that I have stopped believing in my writing... slowly and steadily. I am not particularly sure how that happened but it is important for me to acknowledge that it has. ..And try to think more. I have always believed that writing is my calling, that this is what I will end up doing regardless of where I am now. Because I felt that way, imagining all the time in the world to do it at some point, I never invested in it. I have never spent time learning about the minutiae - writing on whims, basking in the feeling of happiness about the pieces being relate-able. But what happens when things don't happen in my life that are someone else's stories too, what do I write about then? May be that's my s