Your move? Checkmate.

Why is everything in a form? If the form is the manifestation of it’s worth, I would probably be amongst the scrap pile. I am so shattered, physically and mentally that, looking back to actually see what happened seemed like a curse. A very bad idea, that needs to be implemented. Reasoning could also be skewed, I thought. But then, who ever got away with sequential reasoning, it would only leave heavier despair, too heavy that it can tamper my strength inwards.

On the stage of the world, where everyone enacts someone and believes something else, I stand out as the odd ball and the nut crack. But my feet ain't wrinkled out of stress. They can take in the bliss of the moist soil through the tiny pores. I look into your eyes, without blinking. I want to search for some miracle that’s probably hiding through those layers of vision. In the zone everything starts blurring, I find my calling. To look out for more and search for one more mechanism that helps me look further. Why? Because, seeing ‘the void’ is more than anything to me.

I stretch out my hands, to feel the infinite. But, that sounds ironical in the very first place, yet, logic can’t beat the ambitious dreams sometimes. I sense something pulling me back, but it is not strong enough to curl me up in a box of mediocrity. I just can’t fit in it. I came a long way from being flexible of norm acceptance to being stubborn for my own ideals.

In the deep introspection, I found my form. A shape to my existence. How will you find yours, without the struggle? And even if you find it any sooner, can you be in peace without writing it all ?

Your move, my friend.