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SegmaKun
SegmaKun
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Hymns of my missing songs The right person, the wrong time, the right script the wrong line, the right poem, the wrong rhyme, and a piece of you that was never mine… I can’t but wonder as I let loose of these thoughts, and swiftly they get mixed up with the white noises of my journey, while everything that happens feels like it already happened, It seems I'm here but to react, trying to catch a glimpse of what it should be my moment, is it meant to be, I wonder… yet I can’t hide the rushing doubts and fear…, am I late? Is it only one chance? What about now? I know… nothing is in its right place now as it was before… as it seems to be from where I'm standing…, in Denial, regret, or hymns of my lost chances…, maybe it’s destiny…the shelter that shields me from the raging storm…, that tends to bring despair to my shaking soul…yet I carry on… As I'm listening to this song… from a past that once was a moment… “Picture-perfect mutilation… Bright to black with no hesitation… All the right shades on the wrong page…wake up this colorful mind… ” The song’s name is Colorful Mind by Broken Iris Ten years ago… ten years before that…and even now… This life is under no obligation to make sense to me, that one thing very constant in this very changing world…and since Regret is nothing but judging the past with the mindset of the present, and among this unfairness of self-war, my white flag raises with few words resuming my hidden anthem…All that I wanted were things I had before, all that I needed, I never needed more… As the next song starts to play… it's not therapy… I'm afraid it's the very opposite of that… If I had just tried, 'Stead I'll try… To take these dreams, Away from me… Fade this scene, Into the deep… Erase my mind, Cause I can't sleep… I'll be fine, Without chasing… Memories.” the song’s name is Memories by Palisades… Memories are the fuel of what is once a beautiful or a cruel moment, yet the beauty and the cruelness only take shape within based on how I manifest them… even the prettiest memories can become cruel under the mercy of time…, same for the darkest ones they somehow can become soothing in the right time… insanity yet that is how we grow…therefore… we age not by the years… but by stories and In the end, we all become stories… hold your pen my friend as you write yours, the moment will come… When you have to choose between turning the page and closing the book… hence we were not friends, not enemies, only strangers with memories…And the song outro fades away… , as the next one’s intro raises slowly… “Why, oh, why?... You cannot take it with you when you die… Sometimes the things you want the most… Won't happen until the book is closed… I'm losing all I have, But sadly not what I've ever wanted… Tonight everything is over, If I told you the reasons why… You would leave, so I chose to lie… Why, oh, why?... I'm afraid of getting colder, I am homeless in my home… Miles away from where I was, Things have changed… I try my best to smile, Just for a little while…”. The song’s name is Smile by Annisokay...I know… I am free and that is why I am lost… and as it always ends up with regrets anyway… I’ll try to make sure it ends up with the right regret…...
Late night thoughts - The WatcherIt’s a given, for I, a mere wanderer, endeavor to share my odyssey, with those whose impact knows no bounds, the profound souls who shape my destiny…to the ephemeral spirits that brush against me fleetingly…yet the consequences and aftermath of these encounters transcend the confines of time, unrelated to its timeframe, for they reside in the very essence of the interaction itself…, depends on where you take a seat though, to choose those mid-mainstream seats where torrents of humanity converge in a symphony of movement… a chaotic dance where you even ascend on the top of it or drown & succumb under its overwhelming competition… Then you gaze back to the edge…that hushed corner where solitude reigns supreme…where shadows whisper and silence reigns…just when it’s almost no one in sight …those distant chairs in the far end…away from the world's applause and the spotlights…here where I find solace so I take my seat…Was this entirely my own choice …I added this to my “not totally sure it is my choice” list… yet It matters not, for the embrace of this quiet enclave sings to my soul… and thus, along its edges, I craft my voyage…Every seat has its perks…pros and cons, a vessel carrying the essence of our being... that expands to create zones and that’s how we allocate that shared journey space…the watcher…is my seat’s perk…I guess…not much of a name… for it was I who named it…From this vantage throne…the rhythms of life barely resonate…barely exist…yet within this hallowed space…I witness the grandeur of existence's spectacle…My eyes capture the chaos and drama, the highs and lows…the climaxes of every single emotion painting a surreal piece of art…the different perspectives…the struggles…the battles waged, the sacrifices made…the sad beauty of those travelers suffering…and the profound mysterious sense of the beauty of their journeys…And amidst this orchestration, I ponder…have I chosen rightly?…here where I rest…this silent haven… true, that it spares me all that rollercoaster of a journey…yet do I find worth?… as I traverse the labyrinth of justifications, contemplating my choice and those of others…it always comes back to the impermanence of this journey that lends weight to my decisions…, Who, indeed, claims the mantle of the righteous path?…are such dichotomies even real? …they tend to use the same argument to justify their choices…as I make the same case for my choice as well…eventually, In the realm of impermanence, we all draw from the same well, sculpting our destinies with the chisel of uncertainty.…To be Continued…

Donquixot
Donquixot
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