We look into the skies,
into our lovers’ eyes
Seeking
for clues in things we surround ourselves
in things that we do
Making acquaintances,
the thrill of discovering
you in them, you in you.
Against who they are, who they are not
we know
what we are, what we are not and what we want to be
Perhaps tainted by the folly of youth
we are blinded
we will be constantly searching
until it all makes sense
coffee shop. 11:30 am,
“ring!: bells on the door”
A : “Hey”
B: “… Hey”
A: “Nice Hat”
B: “Thanks, nice … glasses.”
A: “You have seen it before”
B: “Ow”
A: “…”
B: “…”
A: “Want anything? Coffee? Tea?”
B: “Spearmint Tea, hold on the sugar”
coffee shop. 11:37 am,
A: “So….how are things?”
B: “What things?”
A: “Anything?”
B: “… Nothing”
A: “Nothing? A week and nothing?”
B: “Nothing much”
A: “…”
B: “Yourself?”
A: “Expecting me to tell you something?”
B: “If you want to.”
A: “Good, and slightly sleepy”
B: “Because of work?”
A: “No, watched movie til late. It was about a young kid…”
B: “Do you know when was the last time we spoke?”
A: “A week?”
B: “Yes…”
A: “So?”
B: “I can’t to this anymore”
A: “Why?”
B: “…”
B: “We’ve been like this for along time. Sorry.”
A: “I don’t get it?”
B: “I know, I don’t blame you. I won’t, I can’t…”
A: “What?”
B: “I can’t bear with it anymore. At least not today.”
A: “I don’t…”
ring.
coffee shop. 12.15 pm,
A: “… Why?”
…
…
coffee shop. 11:30 am, the week.
“ring!: bells on the door”
A : “Hey”
B: “… Hey”
A: “Nice Hat”
(fin)
Words, like containers encapsulate thoughts and feelings. Every expression is unique to a set. The containers have no fixed shapes, they distort according to the angle in which you view them, like looking through a crystal flask filled with water.
Structure, pace, rhythm, syntax are like the shelves and accessories in which you hold them. Oh the blue one there to the left, the red ones should be shifted two rows down and placed at the end.
Containers now come in colours too. They are temperamental and they react to how the reader feels at that particular moment. This is why these containers can be so special; they may never read the same way twice.
The containers that are extremely relevant to this post, are also amorphous. They are to be kept in pockets. They serve the purpose of keeping your hands warm on days when life takes away the sunshine; to comfort, and assure that it is alright to feel.
How writing is about hand picking the right container, to store the intensity of the fleeting without an expiry.
3
start from 3 a day.
a humble measure to achieve a catastrophe of the unexpected.
first to open, the second to rip, third to try.
three look like a circle of square patterns.
to OPEN
open the eyes, not just for the seen but for the covert,
views can be blurred, but the heart remains straight.
like a whisper, shy and dashed, let it continue to whisper, till scream is heard.
open the eyes, open the heart
to RIP
rip logic, a diligent progressive evolution of the mind.
the brain is intelligent, but a dream is creativity.
without creativity is there creations? without the creation, uninspired.
rip logic, rip boundaries.
to TRY
try without fear, what fear can give a pinch of hope?
try to climb, try to fall.
knowledge can only guess, the experience may give way.
try with no fear, try with no hesitation.
start from 3
to 365
