four rectangles + one circle

The sun sets, darkness follows. Perhaps for the best; what good is light when I can never see clearly? Night approaches, and I can work no more; maybe I deserve some rest.

Voices!

The voices in my head have returned; this compulsory reflection might do me some good. The day’s distractions are gone, at least for now. Only my thoughts to keep me company.

Thoughts I keep to myself because they frighten anyone I share them with. But they are no cry for help or symptom of affliction — just thoughts.

Surely, there is meaning in all this. All my hopes and dreams, my goals—surely, they serve a purpose.

If all is vanity, why do I labour? If life ends, why does it begin?

The world burns; a flame extinguished leaves thousands in its wake while the arsonists parade as firefighters. The only path to peace is war; tomorrow can only be secured by destroying today. Murder is condemned in the West; genocide is championed in the East.

Life is indeed a wicked game that leaves me no choice but to play — and I play to perfection. I plan, execute, and do it all again. Its endless hurdles are just enough to keep me occupied and distracted from the fact that no matter how well I play — no matter how good or evil, rich or poor, accomplished or otherwise, each player is born to die. Replaced in the endless cycle by another player doomed to the same fate. A distant memory.

So, what is the point?

Chasing the wind, yet I can’t stop myself from running.

You gave it your best; the worst is come and gone. Pick yourself up, dust your clothes, wipe your eyes.

Continue your journey.

It’s over; you survived, you’re stronger now. Don’t dwell on your mistakes; learn from them. When the opportunity presents itself again, you will be wiser, more experienced, and better prepared.

Out with the old.

Out with the old.

Out.

The universe has a plan that you can’t understand yet. When it’s all said and done, when you look back, everything will make sense.

What’s lost may never be found; perhaps something better awaits you tomorrow.

I truly hate the life I’m forced to live; sometimes, death seems an attractive proposition.

I hate being at the mercy of men. I crave independence from everyone else’s poor judgement and lack of taste. I hate having to participate in society’s stupid rituals, the blind leading the blind—eyes full of logs.

I hate that no matter how fast I run, the finish line eludes me. For every small win, another battle begins before I can catch my breath.

How many fucking lemonades can I make?

Each day I bite my tongue because my words are anything but constructive. I hate having to deal with all these stupid people and their stupid opinions. Wipe that smile off your face; I’m talking to you too.

Yes, you.

I hate your sense of purpose, so I’d rather tear it down than build my own. I hate you, so I’ll take more than I need and watch you starve. I hate you because I was taught to hate you; that’s just how it’s meant to be.

I hate you because you’re so different; you’re ugly. I hate you because you remind me too much of myself; it’s like looking into a shit mirror. I hate you because our parents hated each other; our children will carry on this legacy.

However, there’s something I can’t quite place my finger on. You call me irrational, but we both know my ire is not misplaced.

In retrospect, maybe I am broken. Perhaps I’ve been moulded by a hateful society that teaches me to destroy and never to create. Perhaps I blame everyone else for my shortcomings while I remain hard-headed and resistant to change. For better, for worse, I am who I am.

I will hate you until I learn to love myself.

You,

I’ve tried writing this several times, but it always spirals into incoherent babble. Tonight is no different; my room’s floor is littered with discarded drafts because no paragraph will do.

We watched each other grow, make mistakes, and mature. The world was ours to lose; if only we knew we wouldn’t grow old together. I keep wondering what our younger selves would think of the people we’ve become.

I try to be better; unfortunately, my old habits prevail. I love you with all I am, clearly, it’s not enough.

I never deserved you, but you loved me still and held me close. You never abandoned me, so I will spend my days failing in attempts to be worthy of you. The significance of your presence in my life is more than I can quantify. I’d rather the occasional friction than a complete lack of you.

If God is love, you must be an angel sent to show me a glimpse of heaven.

It hurts me that we’ve fallen apart. I’ve lost before, but this time feels different. What was once love is now a memory—a memory that breaks my heart. I hope we can find our way back to each other—maybe one day, when all wounds are healed and egos set aside.

Till then, I will always love you.

Regards,
Me

It’s always dark before the dawn
Now, the morning has begun

A new day, a fresh start
I make haste to play my part

Hope and anxiety are two sides of a coin
Out of uncertainty, they are born

Uncertain what the day might bring
Will I cry, or will I sing?

Uncertain if things might improve
Or stay stagnant, refusing to move

Uncertainty breeds excitement and fear
Terrified, yet intrigued by what is near

We might not have the answers to questions in our mind
But why fear an unfamiliar foe when friends are around?

Life is a journey; you get stronger by the day
Today’s woes will surely pass away

It provides the tools you need when it’s tough
Not all you desire, just enough

Life is a blessing; today, its greatest gift
May the tides, ever-changing, in your favour, shift

All men die, but first, we must live
To see what beauty the world may give

Each day brings hope, opportunity, and chance
Cast your cares aside; have a dance

The morning has its moment, and so does the night
Acknowledge the darkness as you wait for the light

And when the hour comes, divine
Upon your face, the sun shall shine