I thought one time that I was something separate like you can order a burger without the meat if you do isn't it something else then? it isn't like that not like that at all not like you can order a burger that isn't food all of it is food the burger gets it's meaning from the fact that is it food burger is a cow what are you? where do you get your meaning from? what are you a piece or particle of? are you like this? look, you can see.
I just feel dizy Where all the time go Nothing is logical and I've lot the sense of purpose And even though I'm still a human My body makes me feel like I'm just a reject Reject of stars Reject of life Nothing is logical and I've lost the sense of purpose My body's flying But I stay put down Is this really the end of my existance?
I inhale forgiveness. And exhale all my vengeance. Like taking a word from my right ear, And throwing it out from the other It hurts to say this: Saying "Marhaba" to misfortune with warm hugs Know why I do this? I wait for serendipity To surprise me with a confetti of lilies. I'll fly with each petal... But, Why do I forget that there's always a purpose behind an accident?
As a man, I contemplate my thoughts just beyond the boundary of breaking waves on the shore. An endless symmetry stands before me. The ocean with its crash and calm takes any and all forms. Yet though it morphs its shape, its nature always remains. To be life and to contemplate life. A mere thought that has enchained the minds of greater men. In the grand symphony of time, we find ourselves in the 21st Century. Where there are those who postulate the Theory of Illusion. Each of our own odysseys reduced to the hallucinatory will of my brain. Tell me then, how does one illusion contemplate its own existence from within? My gaze refocuses out to the endless blue horizon, and I imagine the shape of it all. Though we take many forms, our nature prevails. Social animals some would say. I prefer a different metaphor, shepherds of knowledge. Though our collective knowledge flaunts many costumes, our true nature perseveres unfettered. Through the ages we carry all human ingenuity, meanings, and purpose inside some unspoken tome. It does not erode against the battering winds of time. It can not be sunken to the depths. It endures in this very contemplation. My wandering inquisitive mind cannot help but wonder what abstract thought will be captured in this very spot a thousand years from now. For some this conjures a mysterious existential dread, but I can only stand and smile. My mind lets me step outside the binding flow of time and watch the world unfold. Campfires under the crescent moon to villages etched out on verdant ground, and here now to the grand gusto of modern cities. Endless forms and shapes pushing towards our ultimate nature. To understand that purpose in the universe if left by our boot impressions on the mud. The cosmos is our endless ocean. Out there; waiting, for our contemplative minds to shape it.
The echo effect of water when raindrops hit the surface send ripples of space and time never needing a purpose. Does she need a purpose to create the fractals of her living? Needn't she be, whom she be and just be? Without the unforgiving need of a purpose
The walls seem to fade in colour, the ones that held on to my valour. The rain breaks out wild, as my thoughts revile the dubious washed walls. Till then I seek refuge in the lost halls. While I count my marbles, to the evergreen warbles.
Life is an artwork; it is not obligated to give you a meaning or purpose. So what do we do about it? Give it interpretations.
Alot of us don't realize the privilege that we have of not having an objective purpose, we are not eternally bound to do one thing because that would be a curse rather than a gift. Life gave us a chance, and that chance is to give a meaning to life itself. So what is the point of living? The answer can be as ambiguous as the amount of stars in the universe.
Do not cage yourself into one meaning, instead, explore the vastness of meanings that each living creature interpretates from the greatest artwork of all time: life.
Hello, everyone. This will be the last poem/letter that I will upload in this blog. It has been a long time since I've last wrote here and my life has definitely changed tremendously. Thank you, everyone. And if you're interested in what I'm doing lately, all my platforms are in the link in my bio, I now make my own music. Stay safe and keep improving.