Nothing is more tedious and pointless in life than looking for answers. It's nice to be surrounded by questions. The harassment caused by the answers is overwhelming.
I came to see, not to stay. I came to give, not to beg. I came to comfort, not to hurt. I came to speak, not to mock. I came to laugh, not to cry. I came to bless, not to curse. I came to pray, not to rant. I came to you; you did not.
I stood there with my wings outstretched, ready to soar into the sky of dreams with you, but I failed to notice that my feet were firmly stuck in the muck of attachment.
You had vowed that if called, while standing in front of the ocean, you will arrive as a reviving wave current. You will appear as a calming downpour if I call while standing beneath a cloud. You will arrive as all rejuvenating lava if I call while standing in front of a volcano. You will appear as rays of illumination if I call while standing in front of a scorching sun. You will arrive as a cool breeze if I call while standing in front of a howling wind. But all I want is that when I call you in a human voice, you respond like a real human.
All feelings are out of date. The year alone is new. The aches are all very old. The year alone is new. The dreams are all outdated. The year alone is new. Every wish is out of date. The year alone is new.
Charging cows and a foggy head. A plunge into a stinking gutter. Unconcerned cows gently go. An ascent from hell with legs covered in filth. A return trip home, newly purchased sandals gone from stench-oozing legs, intense embarrassment, and bewildered looks from passersby. The embarrassment is just as strong today as it was back then.
The biggest fortune I ever received by chance was ten pence on the way to school. It gave me a rush of exhilaration that has lasted my entire life. The money I earned after that never matched it in terms of joy or worth.
One last quick look at the text that will be printed. It appears like a good job was done. a surefire path to notoriety and ubiquity. A constantly self-centered mind slowly begins to consider eternal stardom while it is still considering the effort that has to be done to get there. It ultimately reaches the unforgiving people, who throw it aside like a pile of *******. I've come to understand that life revels in fantasy while being miserable in reality.
The mind is frequently violated by unauthorised thoughts. Bad thoughts are played as nice ones by the mind. When wicked things are done, the mind dresses itself in a pious robe. The uncommitted mind is never caught.
I got to work on a poem in the moonlight. I made notes on a piece of paper of everything that came to me. My cluttered mind was not satisfied, though. The paper was shredded by me. however, I was drawn to a single line on a piece of shredded paper that read as follows: "Poetry has a consciousness of its own. It will become apparent " I zealously resumed writing.
Why aren't any eyes looking in this direction? Why aren't more people drawn to this location? Why are they not intended for this place, exactly? Why don't they just stop by and take another look? There is no doubt that if they return, both they and the location will be more alluring. What was once abandoned must be revisited rather than forgotten.
A young sun is rising over the sky. A blank mind seeking solace. Sat under a tree to calm my mind. A cool breeze is flowing around a field of lush grass. Bird songs could be faintly heard. It had the impression of being a peaceful place. The mind turned into a mirror of the nature.
Three children were sitting quietly under a tree. The silence that surrounding the location astounded me. For a little while, I forgot I was in the midst of life.
Those present had left by the time others arrived. There was no time to wait for others to arrive. Nobody was eager to see others in flesh and blood. Everyone had focused their attention on their own lives.
That carefree walk down a bustling street, mind and body unaffected by the world of gains and losses, provided an odd experience. Nothing appeared to be genuine, but words and money were exchanged with the dread of a dream coming to an end. The tide of people marched on, unaffected by an unusual soul wading through it.
Overwhelming emotional force in the heart. Uncertain on how to act. making mistakes in both speech and deed. attempting to arrange life in a balanced manner. But the mind won't budge. But, take heart: this malady is widespread. Life is a lingering state of instability.
Who do you say goodbye to when you finally leave everything behind? Knowing I wouldn't be coming back, I felt it wasn't necessary. I was resolved not to turn around. The eyes, in my opinion, are only positioned in front of the face to see what is directly in front of them. I continued without being constrained by a past that didn't start with me but rather just happened.
Where has everyone gone? Nobody I know is visible here. Will at least a few return? What happens if none do? Can I spend a long time here by myself? Will it be worthwhile, if at all. I want to remain because I need to motivate them to return, regardless of what happens. Do I have a chance of success? Well, I'm clueless right now, but I'm going to stay here to be available to others.
A flower on a vine! Even when no one is looking, smiling! The tall, haughty trees nearby cannot see it. The flower shines brighter than the obscurity that the thick trees surrounding it create, even if the Sun's rays only kiss it late in the day.
You have ripped a hole in my life. My life hasn't been in rhythm since you filled my heart with memories. Although you've arrived earlier than expected, your memory has abandoned me. My heart's door is prepared to shut since you decided to stay outside.