There's a lot of past and more of the future.
A lot of crying and many more tears, of joy and sadness
Dumped In this huge pile of Present.
Which we are unhappy with.
Hoping to get more,
More more than we can.
More than we deserve.
What is this pressure?
Sharp like a razor.
Bleeding through the nibs of our pens and literature.
And us?
What about US?
What are we going to do with all this future?

A wise man once told
"Nothing"
I listened to his silence

Then the same man told
"Write what you feel”
I obeyed

Journey has never been a straight line yet we need to be okay with that. We expect something, something is there waiting for us to happen. Still our effort is to make life as smooth as we can. We plan, we work, we understand, we stay cautious, but we have to move on.

After all we learn.
And we don’t see things the way we used to.
Life is not always a movie with a happy ending.
If so, then why can't we believe death as a graduating time?

The end of us.

I seek what I’ve learned but failed to understand
Celebrating this nothingness, oblivious to my heart
Expectation creates pressure that elevates my fear
Reality sets me free or so they made me believe
I walk along this thread, no ends on both sides
Balancing this lunacy with outbreaks so calm
I carry these words, no longer they are mine
What more can I do, to make them satisfied