I don’t know where this strength comes from, who supplies it, who brings it on and why do we so often need that. I thought trusting someone was a better idea to survive the life. May be because the fruits did not fall from the sky, may be because this clueless obsessed idea was eating my mind, I am just contributing to some of my varied versions. Where there is no fun to tease anyone, where mistakes are not counted but everybody is obliged to grow a little more, where mistakes doesn’t means any spelling mistake or just a bad examination.
I just want to make up my life there, where there are universes existed into one big soul, where people are humble enough to believe and I have this sweet little dream of be the way I always used to.
You see, everyday life, everywhere we weave a sign, meet various people and listen various opinions about ourselves. The eyes, the scares, the fearful dramas, our loved ones sometimes don’t try to understand us. Everybody tries to be busy enough, even there seems some time for the self, they want to contribute a little more to something that they think is useful.
Where that moral value has gone? Where is that trust that was a prime prism to bind human beings on earth? Where do I find some handful sources to make me believe that I can move a long way without getting worried if there is someone out in my friends who is conspiring again? Who will judge this?
I don’t want to be judged anymore, for anything. I am this, now come and see I will be this forever, something that will ever change is the way I know things, I learn them. May be a little more then I expect from myself, but this is what I always used to be, this is what my writings ever said.
Because living with this always gave me strength to move, without a help, because writing like this is my identity and this always shall be, forever and ever, without fear.