wow, suddenly encroached with fully- blown wind from all street corners, ruthless winter sharpening her teeth, and leaves under feet, everything seems to be so precious. Fragile pieces of human life are written down on the sad days pages, I believe, I see, and I scream for more silent days as if somebody had broken my heart without my permission. I would like to be a king of my own life, my own heart commands, and as I can see these days, followed by easily impact- of- a huge- intensity distorted reality of mine, this might be the most combat- requiring part of human life. Do you remember the lady with umbrella I had mentioned several blogs ago? We expect certain things to be flowing according to pace of our mind. To fit. To be scrubbed by it in case of evidence shows different testimony. Mind is a tricky mechanism (if it really mechanism is), and I ,myself, am fully aware of its from truth misleading damages it can cause. This is a spot that I precisely did not wanna be facing. That whole Truth or Non- Truth question, or philosophical quest. No matter how we call it, we all believe in some truth, percentage of information conceived ( and yes, I say conceived) by ourselves, that would be consistent with our belief about truth of that information. And I am everlastingly trapped in the belief of the truth I just conceived by help of this (even not mine) keyboard. I am reveling, so reveling in it.
I have found a new window a window without widows in its frame where scream does not echo as in dreams that are echoless opening the window i besiege you for your faith in me since to you i bestow when you look too close the window has your face and i am being hurt in silence