Auspicious day they call it, God was born, celebrated and hearts were lit.. My ride for a darshan suddenly felt weird, as I saw a body being taken away, bereaved world.. Life, as you see it, can have an impact on you, but seeing beyond it, only makes it beautiful, just like early morning dew.. I write on a tune, and I write without it, as I ejaculate some emotion, with a head bucketed with grit.. The people around you have opinions galore, some think you're a saint, but some thin you're a whore.. This impact is something you can't digest, feel stripped, exposed to that breast? What people say should be secondary to your mind, what you say is a primary tool, use it well by yourside.. I often try to connect the dots between what went wrong and why, but I'm wasting time on a lot here, I feel it's a wasted climb.. Just like a virgin won't be honest about his virginity in today's world, you hide inside that lather, come out of it, face the world.. As my battery dies, and I see an orange light blink up right on my phone, I shall continue, because writing gives me the feeling of a king, on that worthy thrown..
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