You’re not perfect

I’ve seen that many people allow emotions to get the best of them.

When there’s really no room for emotions in the big leagues.

Passion? Yes. That’s different.

But being clouded by the insecurities is a huge vulnerability.

That’s what I think and have seen around me.

So instead of dwelling on our shortcomings, I instinctively feel we should focus
our time and triple down on our strengths and passion.

Because we all have so many shortcomings.

No one’s perfect.

No one.

Not even you.

So stop acting like one.

Those words

I live those words.

I breathe those words.

Those words, your words, made me feel I was never alone.

They made me feel that there’s someone out there for me.

Your words were honest with me

and I was honest with your words.

Reading them, knowing how you felt, how you were lonely sometimes, and afraid too, but always standing up, the way you looked at the world, felt its color, smelled its textures, and sounds, I felt your thoughts, hopes, desires and dreams.

I felt I was thinking and feeling and dreaming with you.

I dreamed of what you dreamed of, and wanted what you wanted.

And then I realized,

that truly

I just wanted

you.

I miss the star

Stars. Hundreds of stars. Sometimes, even million.

I miss lying down on the ground and seeing those stars. When the grass used to be the comfortable mattress, and the chill in the air used to awaken every sensual part of you. When I used to wonder looking in the infinite mass-less space whose non-existential presence I still question. The hours ticked away, and the birds went silent, with the occasional chirping of their hungry ones, and I still laid there, just looking. Was it true that those are our ancestors? Or that rare falling star will fulfill my wish? It never did, though. Maybe it was too busy with others’ wishes. So many weak people asking for that ‘one’ wish. It must have been really busy. But how did it pick one out? Destiny? Or some random algorithm to find out who deserved it more than all the others? Maybe it’s the instinct of the star.

But you know what? I don’t care if it didn’t fulfill my wish. Or in case, anybody else’s also. It’s still a star, in fact a rare falling star, and people still crave for it. It’s still breathtakingly beautiful and can’t be forgotten anytime soon. The sight of that star makes you feel life is worth living for. Every small moment of that beauty makes your living justified. No matter if it comes once a month, or even a year, it’s always surprises you, amazes you, makes you feel needy and bring out your emotions for what you really want and desire.

I miss lying down on the drew covered grass and see that falling star.

I miss my falling star.

The Sun came down before I came

The sun came up before its time,

Shining with glory of a victorious war,

Fueling the life in nature and its rhyme,

It felt close, but vision realized it was far…

The wind broke loose,

Fell over the face,

My eyes forces to close,

Not in the disgrace,

But in the moment of burning lies,

That lay deep down inside,

I was racing towards the end of this play,

Only to realize its the heart that stays,

Till the end when you have ridden the waves,

Up and down the place you sway,

Just staying to the edge in the rough times,

Believing what’s worthy and going for its shine,

No wonder the push throws you away,

You still get on even after the shades of grey,

And when you find your way through the blue,

The Sun will be there waiting for you,

But it didn’t matter, neither your name nor fame,

The Sun came down before I came…

The Buried Life

But often, in the world’s most crowded streets,

But often, in the din of strife,

There rises an unspeakable desire,

After the knowledge of our Buried Life…

-Matthew Arnold, “The Buried Life”,

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