I just want you to be happy. . .
I’d be gladder, if you are that with. . .
ME. . .
“Men do not bother Heaven, They never do . . .!” Those are my own words written while creating a cold blooded monster for a work I’m working on, and, I mean them, I do.
Humans are the people whose basic intention to live is not just served by the ‘need of breath’, but there is something other, which they crave for, they desperately search for, and I, name it as, “Happiness.”
People talk of good and bad, wise and unjust, Heaven and Hell. They want to do good deeds, they want to be wise, and finally. . . They want to be “Heaven”. Or simply, they just be wise and good to be in that milky-white, happy-clouded Heaven!!?
OK!! You say you don’t want Heaven or not even a penny in return, and you say that you do everything for “inner-peace” or “satisfaction”? Which is what I say is not indirectly, but directly linked to that “Happiness”. The very thing which “every human” crave for. . .
“And I’m craving, craving. . .
Craving something I can feel.
Where do I go, what do I need. . .
Is it ecstasy or is it real . . .?”
- James Bay.
If you put the same question James Bay had put himself across, what do you answer to your “soul” . . .? What are “you” craving for? Ah, I don’t have any interest in your answer, I just wanna talk what I wanna talk, and I wanna talk to the one whom I wanna talk. They say this is what “your arrogance” is, yes I agree the next moment they utter the statement, but. . .
“Is this arrogance? Can somebody be arrogant at everyone?”
No. . . . Hm. . . . I can’t. . .
I can’t let this “someone” go as she wanted to. I want to stop and say “It’s okay. It’s okay even if we fight. It’s okay even if we cry. It’s okay even if we die. . .” Of course, I won’t let her die, that’s something different.
If you just leave because you don’t wanna fell sorry for me, just you can’t take our little “cute” fights anymore, and. . . . Ooh, I don’t wanna think of reasons and lift them why you wanna walk away. “I may not matter to you, but you do matter to me.”
“In this concrete jungle – you do know (If you don’t know, then know this now), you are alone without me idiot, and. . . I already am feeling I’m lost without you.”
Hey, what am I talking about actually? This is not the topic right? I started about something Heaven and Hell thing. Ah . . . Why the heck do I drift myself while writing about something? Ooh, on the first hand, “why do I write something?”
I don’t know. . . Just like many other kids (Kids, I say about myself and “you”). I can fell the heavy fall of thoughts getting dumped inside me and. . . . I just couldn’t compose all of them properly in a virtual vision and I’m trying to do that on a paper, and still. . . I’m a failure.
“I’m a failure damn it!!
And. . . .
I know that before this
God’s Green Earth was ever created. . .”
If men do bother about “Heaven”, if they really do. . . Why do they fear death? Why do they crave to live? Why do “we” cry to die?
There are different reasons people say, “They fear of Hell and their sins,” “because humans actually don’t know what’s in there after life.” In this way, many more. . . But the apt thing I feel is. . .
“They can’t leave their loving ones alone and go somewhere alone, forever.”
Yes. . . That’s the true thing. . .
We do fear what is going to happen to our loving ones in our “absence,” and . . . . What we are going to be, in “their” absence. We may fight, cry, say sorry, feel regret for being with them, feel ashamed, be embarrassed, or . . . hated them at times. Still, we do cry and “fear” to be “alone”, without “them”.
If it is so my “Night”. . . If it is so. . .
“Come, just be with me even if you are facing the brightest of the suns, deadliest of the tides, destructive of the winds or. . . Darkest of the Nights. . .
I’m made only for you. . .
You are made. . . Only for me.”
Only for “ME”. . . My Darkest Night.
When I knew what your name truly meant, haha . . . You don’t know what I had felt. “I’m a guy who work in darkness. . . I’m glad, I’m going to work with it. . .”
Smile Please . . .!
Glad to be back after eight long months. . . . .!