At times, we feel too brave for this world. We laugh at its mockeries, swiftly jump over the muddy troughs in the road and don’t bother about the stains on our pants nor the soaking wet shoes. Showered by raindrops of glitz and glamour, we carry big sunglasses on our nose and plugs of music players in our ears. We walk with giant steps, and feel grand just by doing so.
But at times, we feel too small for this world too. We sulk and sob tearlessly, a tiny heap of human insecurity, sitting with shrugged shoulders near Atlas’ feet, unable to carry the weight of the globe on our own shoulders like he could.
Seeing is believing, they say, but perhaps you need to hear it too, before you become painfully aware that a fire had been sizzling inside all along. Words have the power of revelation, while silence feeds imagination. When you voice some-thing out loud, some-thing some-times becomes a reality, as if it were a mysterious, ancient formula spoken by a magician. A-bra-ca-da-bra...We can split-up words in as many syllables as we wish, albeit only to discover that there is much long’ing in long-distance, and little sing’ing in missing.
But at times, we feel too small for this world too. We sulk and sob tearlessly, a tiny heap of human insecurity, sitting with shrugged shoulders near Atlas’ feet, unable to carry the weight of the globe on our own shoulders like he could.
Seeing is believing, they say, but perhaps you need to hear it too, before you become painfully aware that a fire had been sizzling inside all along. Words have the power of revelation, while silence feeds imagination. When you voice some-thing out loud, some-thing some-times becomes a reality, as if it were a mysterious, ancient formula spoken by a magician. A-bra-ca-da-bra...We can split-up words in as many syllables as we wish, albeit only to discover that there is much long’ing in long-distance, and little sing’ing in missing.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment