Random

The definite is aloof while the infinite is vague. Where do they suggest to ground us?
I'd say a shaky ground ready to crumble at its liking without warning.

The question remains, where do we position ourselves? What then validates an abated precaution when the probability of an indenfinite devours all else known? 

What of facts unguarded for the taking when it is weakened by dissection into differential truths? Nothing but a blueprint of a disassociated future meant to dissolve into the unknown. Simply because the future is unknown.

Know that what is visible to the eye is what's meant to be seen. And when it's meant, there is meaning. Until it is defined, the lense remains stationary.

A random act through that little lense you so dreadfully peep through is an exhibition of nonrandomness. But, we lived long enough inculcating obliviousness. 

Look again. Pay attention. Because, the unexpected requires more attention than the lines you drew to map out a mirage.

Catch it and be bowled over by a random transition of a blueprint you so profess to be  absolute into an art called life.

The Coin

There are repeatedly unrelenting steps back every sunrise and a temporary release of burden on a sundown as if every single day is an obligatory visit to hell. Worst, as if this has been the result of a contract we were all forced to sign.

That momentary desire to escape and the endless hope to put oneself into countless years of slumber. That illimitable imagery of worlds unknown to what was presented, as if the present is a scientific failure we all have to suffer. Even worst, as if we were locked up and forbidden of choice but to invent weapons to beat impermanence.

Billions of us believe that we are in a battle and that survival means one has to take another down and step up. For billions of years, us none-the-wiser built a battlefield we've mistaken for intelligent move. Up to this day, we chose to ignore a simultaneously existing angle that maybe there is no battle after all. 

That moment of inescapable lingering thoughts of abhorrence, my true self seems to have developed mistrust of what our minds, the footloose engineer of all sorts have chosen to concretize. 

Because, every desire to disappear, every hope to disconnect and every despising moment is rejection of the gift. 

And, rejection of being is acceptance of misery. In that case, the wait will be painfully long and the agony is as excruciating as no one can imagine.

But, a coin can always be flipped and time, illusionary and abstract as it may seem is patient enough to wait for that moment of toss and give light to the other side.

The choice is always yours and the coin is in your hand. 

Always has been.

Let It Be

I am saddened.
By darkness swallowing daylight like a predator unleashed by the gods.

I am petrified.
By the uncertainties of tomorrow when today expects a better one.

I am panic-stricken.
By nights when sleep is forbidding and indifferent.

I am underwhelmed.
By the urge to succeed when success is mistaken for survival.

I am depressed.
By noise when noise is the silencer of a screaming head.

I am in a quandary.
When finding answers isn't the answer.

But, these my friends are my sources of bliss when resistance is resistant no more.

Let it be.