You are uttering my thoughts
Because we share the same feelings.
It is totally unlike the Wuthering Heights,
But it is quite like it sometimes.
Fiction pouring itself into reality as if we are merely players in a lunatic’s chessboard.
My river of discontent and yours run side by side, wild and furious.
I don’t know where these two rivers end or where they meet, if ever.
We so pine for something ineffable we cannot touch, but it’s there in the corner of our eyes.
A glimpse of a teardrop which is just an irondrop really, heavy as the world that we carry.
I wanted to tell you to stop painting with black and white and sombre tones and gray nuances.
I wanted to tell you that life is everywhere and in everyone,
Experience is in the palm of your hand
Just as a plain oyster hides a gem. I know you think me overly excited and a damn optimist, it’s irritating I know.
“Don’t be a child”, but that’s the only thing it seems I know how to be
Now – a child.
There is no trace of evidence of that child I wish to be.
And you managed to preserve it somehow. Hope you will teach me.