Tis a day for penchant.

We all have seen pieces of us in other people's eyes. Little twinkles of shinny good and random excerpts of telltale ills. Words amount to many weights, but those unsaid carry the most of truths.

Many say, "I wish".. at so late an hour when the sardines have turned gray and the sundial pattering its last speck of dust. I am awed by the world, I am enthralled by the beauty of the soul.

There is ominous waiting in silence, and darkness in all birthing...

But then, once in a while...

Just sit there right this minute,

Indulge, don't flex a muscle,

Rest, release, and breath in the goodness of life,

For your little chance to see life as a whole,

After all the hard work,

Let me get you a tray of berries and wine,

You can use my soft words,

As a cushion for your head.

Live like a river,

Flow and get carried by surprise,

Of the unfolding tides.

The wellspring of life is bubbling us anew every moment.

And so, when the angel is troubling the waters

It's no time to stand on the banks,

Reciting past wonders. Join in, celebrate and live life by the edge.

#From the memoirs of Pest.

Comments

Learning the ropes.

A reset is something that hits you when you least expect it. Just like sickness, it knocks at your door at odd hours, bringing with it a period of great adjustments and shifts. A bit of a background story, a couple of weeks ago, I was reading an anecdote by Norman Vincent Peale (the father of positive thinking) where the author posits that one should change their thoughts if they wish to change the world. This got me thinking; all those instances where I have seen people on the streets or in restaurants in seemingly boisterous conversations and showing broad smiles unassumingly made me think that they might be living life happier than mine. I assumed that they were happier than me or even smarter than me. Instances are rife where we sit in our little apartments imagining what it would be like to be someone else. That feeling that we often behold that everyone around you seems to be doing better than you, or the one where we feel that piles upon piles of decks are stack...

Fears and Wars

He has his own fears, often he beholds his own wars, some days with a raised face and at times with a downcast smug. Hate and love are two perfect sides of a coin, there is no in-between. He often tries not to judge people that he rans into amidst the craziness of life. Some new, some acquaintances and many that he has known over long conversations. His type of conversations covers short spurts of strenuous "hellos" and "heys". The amount of fake charades on people's faces and actions always makes his heart cringe; not with fear but with a lot of pain. It takes a certain amount of opening up to get to let people into his life, especially when one is reserved. And when he does, his life resides there; a center of unhinged openness . He hates changes and often a great deal is characterized with a Traditionalist view. He likes to see things organized in a certain way; less drama. Untidy workplaces irritates the comfort in him, and interrupted schedule screws up ...

He Remembers.

He’d write you this letter, but he knows, the good ol’ days are gone. blame the vagaries of life. The bits that used to make your heart fluster; the butterflies in your stomach? This are words, poured into this piece, to remember a graceful person, to honor a time that made his world a place to relish. Truth be said, weathering this time is daunting and he got no idea how it is going to be. He’s held onto hope; he knows too well of it’s tingling taste in his mouth. He’s beheld countless nights of little to no sleep and unsettled sighs and heaves, oh the world that was! The song titled For You by John Denver bellows through the dark headphones tightly holding his sanity together, He can’t help but feel every second and minute pass by so slowly. That is a song he would be singing in the shower with an upbeat mood, relishing the gifts of life. It’s a heavy one this bit, He doesn’t know if his shoulders can hold onto the weight really. He is scared, not that the world’s turned colder...

Random Stirrings of The Mind.

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