You are the sun and I, the moon,
You are big, bright and burn everything that dares,
I stand for everything graceful and peaceful,
You are needed, but I am just heeded,
Even if you have flaws they re never seen, but I display my scars with dignity,
There’s no life without you, but there’s no hope without me,
You never let anything come near you, burning it in its path,
I have let them know me, an open book, and understand me,
I let the stars shine with all their might even at the cost of mine, but you..you have to be the brightest in the sky,
You are the sun and I, the moon,
Now, would you still love me?
It seems deadbeat,me being around. I was so caught up molding my life into absolute finesse perfection, I forgot that I had a past that was far too stilled and shut away for my own convenience. This past is not a dark,sordid one where gray pictures of heinous crimes and misdoings get painted immediately if one chooses to bring up the topic of their ‘past’. I am afraid, it is quite conventional and frankly petty and yet I look upon it as something that altered the winds through my mislead sails to directions I had dare not implore then. I am here today, in the grandeur I would like to imagine myself, in the flair of importance and sophistication I extrude, only because I spent every waking moment of my life to carefully incise away my past and to project a happy exterior unburdened of what potentially defines me. Yes, my time that left me defines me more than the time that is with me right now.That is probably because my present is an effect of my past, in ways that many can’t imagine. That is the funny thing about time, either nothing changes, the paths we choose are repetitive, the destinations same and the journey deja vu-ed too much or, or everything changes with a result malignantly different from the cause. Everything did change for me, and the emotion that triggered the process was pure disgust, coupled with probably a few happy coincidences. My past has been a string of disappointments and ambitious claims of unearthly choices, of radical miracles and belief in belittling beliefs. I must say, running away from it has been presumably the most adequate fuel for any furtherment in my current life. I wanted to reach somewhere so far away from it, I transformed myself wholly in the process, to a point where my beginnings were marred beyond recognition. I look at myself in the mirror, trying to find that person, that person who couldn’t look at the same mirror without distaste and unbearable countenance, that person who shunned the world to seek homely refuge in worlds that will never be, that person who believed in miracles as the only righters of the wrongs and that person who shall die one day without a shred of human thought wavered due to it, and I can’t find her. I have finally lost that past and yet, I am rather unconvinced about the perfectionist agendas of my present. I do not know whether I kicked up a hornet’s nest doing so, bringing in complexities that the simplistic version of me was unaccepting of but I know this, that past did not quell the thirst in me to seek out the world and to take it by the horns and hence, as much as unhappy I am today, probably far worse than the petty things I worried about back then,I don’t think I’d ever want to go back.
“Bad choices make good stories.”