A lonesome part of the mind writes

​I wonder, where do visions go? When we dream of something and let it go, does it just disappear?
Miracles don’t happen, like those Hollywood action blockbusters. I really wish miracles did happen, but that would make life very boring if everything just happened. Heroes don’t always have to win, don’t always have to be the one achieving wonders. It can be you, them, me, side kicks, or antagonists. I don’t qualify to say this, I know but waiting for the miraculous moment, hoping for a saviour is very boring. Things don’t just happen without a reason or perserverence. If it did, we would have a very monotonous life, a very monotonous schedule, a dull life. Life’s biggest present is life itself. I have always thought of it as an open world game. It is funny how simple it instantly becomes but I forgot that while forgetting it. I forgot life has options, which you take, then becomes decisions, and later becomes something I would term as my choices. It is upon these decisions that designs you and let’s you play the game. Life is a game and we are all just our own renditions at it. Even in games, miracles don’t happen, only countless hours of gameplay or cheats.  
At times, it may sound like a lot, I honestly don’t have a lot going on. Just some lines along an empty space and time.
Thank you for reading, human.


2 posts. 2 f-ckin posts.

Well, let us see… Where do we start from. Got two things to write down and I will separate them in paragraphs.

I am not a very good speaker or writer and I mostly mess up more than half of the things I would want to say. It is like I yell out the words I want to say but somehow it is not even audible to . I have always been told that communication is very important but I think more important is the precise way to communicate. Otherwise words are just words, rhymes are rhymed, songs are melodies and descriptions is just d-e-s-c-r-i-p-t-i-o-n-s. I am not writing this to reach out and make anyone feel like something or anything. My posts are hardly reached out and I, in a way am talking to myself here. But, it does give me a satisfaction to let the words out even for a blog… Just get it out.

Did you ever stand at a traffic light, waiting for your turn to go, and noticed individuality? It is magical. Surreal. Unexplainable, that we are not everything, but we are everything. Everyone and a everything. Some of us spend their whole life drinking and thinking about missed opportunities and missed someone’s, some of us spend stand at the signal selling things ranging from peanuts to their divinity, but have you ever glanced to the little boy by your side, waiting, just like you, for his turn, to go home, be a hero of his movie he learned to call life? The maid who crossed the signal with you is thinking about how she is going to pay the bills if she keeps getting fired for being late, the old man with his lady asks you for a hand because their children are working their ass off to support their child and their parents’, the police is continuoisly convincing himself he must hold his post to maintain order to help you reach home safe, and you are looking at this life in motion where everyone is a hero, every one matters, every one must get hurt, every one must feel pain, every one must be lost, to be found, by themselves, to be loved by themselves, to be cared for by every one. This is my message to humanity. Every one is a hero.