there ain't no upcoming rainbow,
no shadows in the rain...
no coffee shop lovers,
but you stick around in vein.
a meaningful white star,
stares back at you and says...
you leave me but I'll follow,
so you wait t'll the night stays.
the magic lamp's ancient,
and wishes are so stale...
but you keep rubbing it,day 'n' night
you believe in fairy tales.
so you...
ask me not to leave and ask me not to stay.
you ask me to just take you,take you far away.
this is probably to get me out of the hot and cold effects of being 'affected'.
trust me,there's not an ounce of it that I like of it.so much so for 'looking through' people!man,do I have wrong ideas about myself!the question, however,is whether I should actually have any idea of myself at all.I'd like to answer that in the affirmative.It doesn't harm me as much as being absolutely clueless.I'd like to think that I DO know stuff about myself.Its better than having others tell you what you're like.
Anyhow,am really,tremendously looking forward to some trip.dharmshala,hrishikesh any damn place would do!_____________there are sometimes when you're so shy or embarrassed to admit your feelings.THIS is that 'sometime'.and I wish I didn't have to go through this sometime,but I'm overburdened with LUCK.
My intuition*another one of those ideas about myself*is strangely strong.I truly believe it is.but when it points at some random thing which in the end does not happen,my intuition gets this huge blow.it's like the ego getting hurt.only, in my case my intuition gets hurt.So yea.
then I happily mix my intuition with some dumb.muddled up feelings of mine.and the concoction is known as "negative confusion" .It negates every bit of hope and pure happiness attached to something making me distrust others.The blame's on me.I do it invariably.whenever my intuition fucks up.
So THAT is how I end up getting to this static-o!positively the greatest mood fucker.I don't know if I feel forgotten or cheated,at this point.I know that I'm still not in a hurry.I was but not now.even if I wander,I do come back.just that I don't find anyone waiting.
Born out of the tender mist, the heavy winds and the beautiful landscapes.Its intoxicating smell pulls me to it.I can't resist and I don't even try.The land below is what I call mine.But as I reach,the same colors looks different to me.The silence sings and I complain.The quiet moments are lost, I claim.The sun is out but I still feel cold.The rains are tired or that's just what I'm told.
Warm and comforting , the smoke around me is good pretence.It moves around, like it knows me very well.I am not here for I never was.And the dark green leaves are telling me...we promise you that you'll never be.
