6 Thoughts For The Day

Every act of expression is an act worth sharing.


Rising from the ashes of courage, the mind seeks resolution. In hope, it seeks wisdom. In wisdom, it seeks patience. But what is broke is the singularity of the objective state of mind. And its many patterns and shapes. So if and when one finds conviction and embraces it. It becomes the only understanding of survival.


There’s stillness where there’s chaos. There’s noise where there’s silence. For without the duality of nature — the battle between life and death — there would be no seeking pleasure in existence. As everything would run its inevitable course. And mortality would lose all that is mortal.


We hope, as flawed human beings, to resurrect the feeling of feeling important. Or having a purpose or meaning. But what we’re unaware of is its vague yet conspicuous labyrinth. With only a thousand doors in and a solitary door out.


The mistrust of obedience doesn’t provoke me. Neither does the temptations of pleasure. It’s the way we exist in the world, depending on its unwavering expectations, that I find destructive.


People are not unkind because they’re happy. People are not happy because they are kind. Lurching within is Unforeseen Pain. Untouched yet deeply felt. This pain grows inside until its roots transform the workings of the mind. Like a tree, each movement demands to be seen and felt. And its hardy branches pierce each nerve until the leaves the grow from it are sick with thorns and stench.


You see someone getting injured. I see pain. You see someone shed a tear. I see cruel aloneness. You see someone smile. I see unshakeable strength.


 

Am I The Rational Creative?

Can one mistake hinder all of your creative impulse and ambition? What kind of mistake would that be? Where does the power to recuperate its backlash come from?

These are the sort of questions most creatives are compelled to answer. Whether they work in creative agencies. Or even as freelance writers or freelance illustrators. We’re so comfortable to answer questions within our framework, we lose sight of the real trouble at hand.

What I’m talking about here is the value of ideas, in general. As a content writer, I often find myself inspiring action, but to what extent, I cannot comprehend. A mistake reveals my insecurities. My flight or fight response gets activated. Should I do another or make my current fault flawless? It’s a constant maze that makes me smile, cry, scream, and wonder.

“You must not let it hinder your creative flow”, my power of creativity tells me.

I’ve predetermined my powers on the basis of the kind of knowledge I acquire by reading and lots of reading. It’s not something I’m afraid to pursue, acquiring knowledge through articles and videos I mean. Especially when social interaction is one of the most effective and productive ways to increase knowledge. My story is a bit different.

The clear perspective of my life is my inevitable approach to redefining the subject of creativity. The power that unpredictably puzzles me into the fear of never moving forward. Remaining stagnant is never a good thing. And why shouldn’t it be?

Everywhere you look, the abstraction of objects, behavior, and experiences never remain as they were when they took form. Well, it’s simple to imply that the biggest mistake occurs when you stop at either nothing or everything. That means when you don’t learn at all. What’s next?

What we don’t say to each other is the inevitable experience of trying too hard. Trying too hard to stay informed, to remain fresh with ideas, and to be unpredictable. Our behavior takes form of that functional and, sometimes, too overwhelming brain we carry around. It’s not easy. But it doesn’t feel so difficult either.

That’s to say that nothing really kills creativity apart from the fundamental hypothesis of substance abuse, idleness, and lack of information flow in our heads. If we don’t read, we listen to music, if we don’t do that, we have something that we constantly feed our brains with to remain creative. Never let that creative juice stop. It’s a firm decree.

So, am I the rational creative?

The work we do is intended to strike a response. Any handy piece of advice is considered wisdom or crap. There’s no telling of success or failure because both are building blocks. A temporary state of inspiration is often filled with new ideas and conversations, but how?

The concept of delivering more when it’s demanded is simple. But in that process, we’re losing our social production quality of life. That means, content is becoming more ambiguous and those on the other side of the screen, the ones reading that content and inspiring action like it’s a never-ending spectrum, are contradicting.

It’s bewildering who’s the creator and who’s the consumer. Are you both? Of course, you are. But when are you taking the form of one while trampling on the other?

Wicked Masks We Wear

How’s the pain?
The gain.
The vain.
Of trying,
maybe not.
Of failing,
but how?

What a wicked mask to wear.
Another right you make wrong.
You’re done
maybe then.
You’re here
sometimes then?

Thanks to you
you’ve come this far.
Struggling for breath
fighting the scars.
Don’t let them stay.
Never mistake its charm.
For it is what it is
that’s how you’ve learned to calm.

Complete The Circle

Expression I have long considered mortal and short-lived.
I have craved withdrawal from myself as much as
I have struggled to contract my wants.

Now, I demand the pictures that frame me small.
I draw from the imagination that forces me to see the truth.
Pure everything till my ends allow.

I choose to complete the circle.
Not because I’m alone, angry, or powerless.
Because the things that once existed no longer fit to make me brave.

It is the beginning of the end of my romance.
I drown with a raging desire for fantasy
with a reality that doesn’t understand my love.

A love so kind and filled with unanimity that
my identity touches a crack on a spotless land.
A stream in the middle of nowhere;
flowing in directions that have no boundaries to fill.

To animate this relationship with myself,
I must expand my horizons and look beyond finite.
Instead of standing under the glass myself to learn my intricacies,
I must fall under the millions that shine over me.

Lay under the fire, feel the burn, and become a subject of stillness
to comfort the role that society illustrates.
How many times this sentiment arises and
how many times do I blink and lose sight of it all?

This will make me strong. Make me live. Make me affect.
Yes, these emotions are brief,
but night comes and the pain makes it last forever.

Be Her Shadow

It’s not easy to raise a girl. She’s fierce. She’s perceptive. She’ll learn the ways of life by how you treat her and how you do not. So let it all go and be her shadow. That’s the only thing you can do.

. . .

Be her shadow.
Raise her mind.
You won’t know until you do
because she’s little known
to her ways of life.

Don’t mistake your anger for love
that’s not the dress up she knows.
Down the road,
she’ll say yes from your no
she’ll be from your all that you weren’t
that’s just how she grows.

Don’t give her playthings dressed up and fair
that’ll make her believe
she’s not as good as for such flair.
Encourage her a talent
whatever it may be.

Don’t tell her what isn’t hers
rather teach her to dream.

You don’t make her a believer,
you make her wise-
wise enough to say what is,
strong to not string along lies

Perhaps, she’ll never be like you
and why would she?
She’s a part of nature-
like a leaf that falls from a tree.