Am I writing for the likes?
Posting photos for the views?
Living for the heck of it
And loving for attention?
Am I incapable of deep thought?
Am I too simple to be complex?
Is complexity the only mystique thing?
And am I seeking to be mystique then?
No vices make the virtue look boring
Am I overly consumed in my virtues?
And too self-centred to notice?
Or am I getting carried away with opinions again?
Days when I don’t talk, I am waiting for the storm to settle. For my senses to resurface. Run back to the routine. Everything is bleak yet there is a comfort in the unknown. I am all up for novel experiences, and this unabashed uncertainty is the first of its sorts. Did I say too much, do I go too far? Where do I stand? What do I want? Days when I am not talking, these rigmarole of questions keep hitting my conscience.
I am wading away from the past, subconsciously. It pricks me a bit because past was my idea of perfection. Now, it is gone. But present is here, and present looks good too. :).
It takes a lot of might to think beyond yourself. Your problems, your shit, your happiness, your importance. I am apparently swimming against the current of stream. Or so it feels. Not even sure if it is the right direction or if there is a way ahead. If it’s all in my head, i’ll better shut off for a while and focus on better things. May be, ignorance is bliss for the moment.
P.S.: Going “philosophical mode ON” today for random reasons.