To be perpetually laden with the parity of both good and bad adventures, I do not know whether I am actually sad or I just want to be sad. The poignant feelings inside of me stay forever and the confusion it brought drains me.

i've been here and i've stayed there,
encountered a lot of events,
met a lot of people;
some were nice and some were less nice,
wise and less wise,
friendly and just... faintly aloof.

there are traces of my steps everywhere i go,
and there are faces which i miss so dearly,
and there are places where i've wandered to.

and for all the paths i've crossed,
without a doubt,
have always been transient.

there is a recurring pattern,
with an awkward introduction and a poignant separation,
of saying hellos and waving goodbyes.

The complication of life has put me in a lot of dejected sentiments. I grasp for affection and assurance, rely on positive affirmations, long for utter liberation. And for that, I am yet to feel whole.

A complete separation from other beings,
I feel the sense of joy and happiness.
Entering the world of my own creation,
playing inside paracosm, unbothered.