Where Is The Way?

Beginnings are always hard to work with. I would usually  make through, only if I could begin on a perfect start. That, probably is the problem with most of my doings. What am I thinking? More importantly, Why? I fail to understand why I cannot just start with whatever I have in my mind. Why do I always have to think too much; think of a third man's perception, overriding my own. It feels like am doing things for somebody else. And again, I cannot make the why of it. 

When was the last time I did not think of a several other things before doing something? I would run out of time if I tried to track it down. It was most likely, years ago when I had an aimless mind. Funny, how you lose self-control over gaining a direction to your acts.

Dead Ends

I do not know if there would ever be a way to put this down and move on. For me, it is like a permanent scar; to my memories. Who doesn’t make efforts to create the most cherishing memories of all times, but you cannot help when you end up facing times that will construct the worst of the memories. I have made up those ones, pretty often. Time heals everything, there was a common saying I grew up listening; believing it wasn’t a possibility for me. Time, however long it has been, hasn’t healed anything whatsoever, not even the outline of the limitless nightmares. I never wanted to, but I do remember each and every little thing that ended up in creating a bad memory. I am now smiling over the long gone ones, but it isn’t the healing that’s making me do so, it’s just the habitual ordeal that I have accustomed myself with. Nevertheless, I am finding it hard to smile over the fresh ones, and I have a feeling that it is never going to happen. For however long it takes, I shall give up anything to come out of here. I can happily do away with having a nightmare in the middle of my comfortless sleep, but I’d give up all my breathing, only if there was a way to come out of living this nightmare. 

Let there be light!

I Believe I Can Fly.... Again!

If only there was a way to attain peace, I would have given my everything to enjoy it for even a fraction of a second, at present. But I guess it's too much I am asking for. Or, is it? Wasn't there a time when everything was in place, and I was at peace? Or, was there? I guess it has been too long to count it in.

I fail to recall when was the last time I was not thinking too much. I can't even trace back the path that lead me here, at this position. I guess I wouldn't be able to define this position. It seems like impossible, or if there was a word to define beyond impossibility. Such is the situation, I fail to understand the whys and hows myself, so silence is the reply to them who want to help me restate myself. I wish I could be helped, but it is that word that defines the beyond of impossibility.

There are people who really, actually, desperately want to see that lost smile on my face. Then, there are those who are satisfied with that pretentious smile of mine. When do I not laugh! And, then there are those who want to help me, but are trying hard to be convinced with that same fictitious smile, because they know the possibilities. I have no grievances with either of them. It is what they see, it is what they believe... But I am disappointed with myself; the failure at being normal once, or again.

It is not me failing to explain, or express; it is like a failed explanation. I know not a way to say it. The closest word I can find right now is "restless", if it qualifies to explain my inability to be at peace mentally and beyond. 

I write when I am upset, or when I am too happy. It brings me closer to what am seeking, add more to the happiness. But the same happiness is dotted with an expiry date. Where is the peace?, they ask. Exactly, where is the peace? I search.

The quest has been on, since I don't know how long. If only I didn't believe in the existence  of normality, I'd have given up long back. But, I believe...

It has been forever since you're gone...
 This little hope is why am still holding on!