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Again, you showed me the way
And ensured I kept my insecurities at bay
I was feeling dull
My pain, did you ****
I was feeling anxious
You helped me fight my demons
I was feeling stressed
My mind, you calmed
All in all, I was down
And you turned my bane into a boon!

Again, you showed me the way
In fact, YOU were THE WAY
The path to happiness
And inner peace
Yes, you may be an author
But for me, a motivator
You may be a poet
But for me, you represent faith
You may be a translator
But for me, a teacher
You may be an academic
But you provide the kick
Which I so desperately need
To do many a deed
And finally, you may be an activist
But for me, my inner beast
Ensuring I do my best
Come what may
Thus, you again showed me the way!!
Poem on how thinking about Dr. Meena Kandasamy (eminent novelist, poet, translator of the "Thirukkural", academic and anti-caste activist) helped me overcome my anxieties and insecurities on a tough day of work yesterday.
oh i love the dude that talks too much
i really wanna keep it up
I'm drinking till i break a glass
I'm sweeping in the dark
the days are getting funny
it's hard to look at sam
it's hard to tell the truth sometimes
i hide under the covers
the waking mind is not enough
my sister writes her dreams
i can barely see the edge
my scaffolding put to the test
my appetite and sleep compete
I'm just like all the rest
you can always see the line waver
as the fan turns in the summertime
in the place among the garbage
where I'm looking for the flowers

because I'm so directed
i search against the screen
face forward all the time
and ever so ill at ease

restless lover close to me
always in my mind lately
burning tragedy in the spring rain
where i was wasted on reality

vacancy lives here
and trains don't drive anymore
I'm deaf to my own potential
and apparently never going anywhere
"Instead of searching for the perfect relationship, get into a relationship and make it perfect."
laid to rest in the passenger seat
like i didn't exist
i might've seen a curling of the lip
but that doesn't mean anything

out of sight out of mind
with the bending of the wrist
now you know where i am
but that doesn't mean anything

there's a strength in your eyes
with your hair down nice
and it looks like you want me
but that doesn't mean anything

dreams, conspiracies
philosophy, fantasy
none of them
mean anything
The eternal-child soul may one day grow up to the ennobled tragedies of fate; it will be blinded by the lack of Nothing that nests in the subconscious, because only one chance is possible for the pairs of proportions. In the meantime, as the periods of life history alternated more and more shallowly, the desire for certain falls became insoluble again. The foaming waves of oceans also lost their sails, because man cannot find the Odyssey of homesickness only in death. One day man will understand why it is necessary for him to still post faithfully in temporary circumstances on the bands of the lowest boundlessness, so that his time does not run out early, the promised fruits of the small Sisyphean weights without space and time can only grow and be created around the house of others.

Why can't the human word find a suitable analogy for the inner, more hidden soul?! Because there is only one possible answer to completeness, just like the fillable Universe?! Today's digitally underdeveloped age deliberately lacks the reliable monotony of paced, rhythmic slowness; even in the beating, feeling heart, there is a total lack of emptiness if it is unable to decipher and interpret the belittling feedback of a given microenvironment. The feelings of the duplicated Self are often consciously covered up by the personality that shows the surface.

- They put their self-identity to sleep, or wake it up from its dreams. Because Being, a little beyond death, finally rests on the branch of Nothingness!
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