There are moments when we realize that the things we’ve done in the past were better left undone, words left unsaid, thoughts better kept in our brains, and emotions that should’ve stayed in that dark and hollow part of our souls. It would’ve been more favorable if it were as such, rather than leave us in disarray and turmoil. In your damnation, you think of the hurt, and think of the depression, and finally, just think. The curse of the thinker is that everything appears to be ambiguous, making everything as a conundrum to be solved. He gets so engrossed with his ideas that sometimes, he cannot identify what is real from what is not. Making sense about almost everything, but few people understands him. The curse of the dreamer is that, there will come a time when they have to wake up from their slumber, a juncture where hope is abandoned and be ensnared by the idea that dreams never really happen. Inevitably, the light ...
I dwell in the spaces where shadows meet light, where questions outnumber answers. A seeker of truths buried deep, I write to unearth what lies beneath the surface. In the chaos, I find my voice. In the silence, I find myself.