SILENCE SEEKER

GREW (2)

Sometimes I try to dart away from the ductility of time and restraining juxtapose.

How do I try?

I usually take long drives, alone through roads, mostly reticent, begetting the unifying peace and bliss. A drive that is imperative and subtle but immensely cathartic.

I had one yesterday, down a quite path with my favorite music to nurture me. For those who have this comfort, it’s like a silent exclamation in an unusual Narnia. Whenever I do it, I am moreover enveloped in silence, so profound that I’ll take the liberty of calling it sublime. It is one of those things where I can be me, where I can vacate all my inhibitions, all of my perplexity, all of my filth; ponder on almost everything and nothing.

And then I slowed down to gaze abstractly at the stars, wonder at the fortitude of the leaves on a tree, listen to the ambitions of the mighty wind, just to hold up onto something. There shall be no sound but my breath and the flirting breeze.  So that I can be there for ages, only the chirping birds are allowed to shatter this silence, everything else shall be profane. It’s a strange sort of high, not viable to everyone. It is here where I can dissipate my unwanted energy, the awful downers, and the ones I don’t really want to think. Normally it takes longer to get myself into a positive mood, as sometimes I feel like I have a bizarre, mild form of manic depression. Sometimes I’m optimistic and driven, and at other times the apathy is overwhelming. And I am aware; as I always am that I cannot always step into a physical Narnia to escape negativism. But it helps, during times like this when I find myself slowly, but surely, gravitating towards an optimistic mood. It helps me to realize

“You’ll never find a rainbow if you’re looking down”- Charlie Chaplin

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…Love has no ending…

 

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I‘ll love you, dear, I’ll love you

   Till China and Africa meet,

And the river jumps over the mountain

   And the salmon sing in the street,

‘I’ll love you till the ocean

   Is folded and hung up to dry

And the seven stars go squawking

   Like geese about the sky.

‘The years shall run like rabbits,

   For in my arms I hold

The Flower of the Ages,

   And the first love of the world.’

But all the clocks in the city

   Began to whirr and chime:

‘O let not Time deceive you,

   You cannot conquer Time.

‘In the burrows of the Nightmare

   Where Justice naked is,

Time watches from the shadow

  And coughs when you would kiss