Life gains tremendous deduction into a slippery involving swirling of fictitious fantasy. Once growing, and the pictorial filament of reality never dawns on your fore, but the sublime misinterpretation of where to be and how to get there switches abruptly on the bile of your young soul.
In a subordinated subconscious attributes, the melodies of reality seems missing from the truth that should have been told. Really written in the pages of life are factual lies of fantasy and bidden dreams. The crave to harness potentially, drives an ironically demanding craze line of service to beaming fictions. Beyond this marginalised measure of going for all, is a missing trait of what reality is.
Many are the young ones like me who are slacken to the core of reckless and feckless declaration of dictionary accentuated remarks. However, it is as if that is the normalized rationale. A normalized rationale that you “grow to realistic acceptance” of how ambiguously life has turned to the half of what the ices never got to know— let alone to understand.
Reality has been a misguided misconception theory propagated to immunize many growing souls. Where do one stand when after consuming the bile of life— a concocted living in the fragments of lies and fiction? There is no need to cry foul over an analogous linkage of no adaptability. The stand is just a quack freak of sweat beats to how folly the pre-supposed life of elated addiction of ecstasy has turned into.
When true fate of life and a combined power of reality dawned, it is then that a slime wake of regret sets in. How I wish I could have reverted to the past! How I wish I could have done that this way! O’ how I wish I could have channeled all these wasted energies into something fruitful! And many other pillowed regrets continues to bombard and haunt you to the time lived and yet to.
Whilst we still struggle to toggle and re-structurised this ration, and add the desired facts to the present situation— and that of the future ahead, it is keenly vital and a concord prominence to start alarming to the young ones coming like me. I lay down this soul to nothingness and to regain nothingness. Where ignorance sets in to eat deep into young hearts like me— then future becomes an abysmal search in the abyss of no stream of light. Life is about reality and realities— and not dreams upon fictitious fantasies of this present situation and what the chronicling slow pace catching future that reality possess in it power.
The Village Thinker © 2014