The Girl Around The Corner.

She was in the backyard,
In her ownself, heaped inside her sunshine,
The breeze always surrounded her,
I was there too, enclosed in my own womb,                       
And here we are still separated
By the corridors of time.
I would come,
And she would be gone...

What I want to know about me?

I don't know.

Why do we need to know our self, or need people, or relationships,  or want to be careful or be safe?
We experience fear; take care of the family; never want to apologize.

We want to trust. Deal with fakes, and find true love, nobility.

Imagine the emotions raging through us, within us, the entire range, depending on the premise our mind functions on, surviving with or without guilt through our actions.

Could one defend greed? Yes.

Could one base its philosophy on greed? Yes.

So on and so forth with all our emotions, which can be defended, philosophized and argued upon.

Feeling safe, to be trusted, to trust remain our basic urges.

How safe do you feel and with whom?

Who would you trust entirely?

I close my eyes to see what face hits my perception, whose name do I hear first?

Then what do I do?

I don't know.

Yoga.

A possibility of letting go - the power of choosing - exists every millisecond.
The dream wakes up every morning.
The desire goes to sleep every night.

Sleep.

Sleep now...the sky above you has let go of noise, din and light to help you rest.
So rest for the day that the sky promises to bring.

The Story Of A Nerve.

I had a nerve,
The nerve activated
the self preservation
mechanism.

The nerve was destructive too,
Suicidal and crazy.

'Why me?' thinking to
the nerve, which knew
nothing of feelings, I tried asking.
I then stopped wanting to know.
Though, I had to keep trusting it,
the nerve was fatal and
I was on a theory.

I hid myself; it made me, or it did not.
I tried numbing the pain,
Either the nerve made everything a nothing, or everything that was there for me.
A complete me, or just a mess called me.

The nerve tried saving me, it did.