What I think you think
I think you are having a bad day right now. Are you not?
I can imagine you sitting there in the corner of your room. Doing nothing in particular, thinking of nothing in particular. But yet thinking. I can imagine the look on your face, like you always have, the quiet brooding expression that tells me much. Sitting with legs cross, hands cross and face down, it transcends to me a prose that feels so uniquely you.
How long do you intent to sit there? Are you waiting? Are you hoping? Are you waiting for hope? Are you hoping that waiting gives you an answer?
Or maybe hoping as in waiting is not so distant to you. Is it bitter sweet? Do you find the feeling comforting in familiarity? Irony isn’t it.
Will it help if I give you a call, or drop you a message? Will you feel better? Will it soothe the pain, nudge the spirit or make the passing of the day more bearable?
And if I am to send you a message, it will probably go like this:
“Hi yoz, wanna have dinner?”
Innocent and non-suggestive. Very everyday. Concerned.
But will you come? Or the corner of yours is more appealing? Will you shudder away, discomforted? Do you not want to go out and face the world so huge and limitless that threatens to swallow you up whole, sorrow and all? Is there no place for you? Does the world, in its vastness but yet its denizens, crowd you out?
Know this that fear is but an emotion, a state of mind, which can be overcome by a greater state of mind. Know that while you fight your battle in that corner of yours, you are equipped with nothing more than a splitting mind.
Know that when you shrink your world into that corner of yours, it is just a choice. For the world is much more than that corner that is everything to you. The world is limited by your perception of it. It in itself is limitless, borderless, spanning through ages and time.
I think you are having a bad day. For if you are not, it will be a terribly unfair world for me to ponder this over while you are having the time of your life, no?
I can imagine you sitting there in the corner of your room. Doing nothing in particular, thinking of nothing in particular. But yet thinking. I can imagine the look on your face, like you always have, the quiet brooding expression that tells me much. Sitting with legs cross, hands cross and face down, it transcends to me a prose that feels so uniquely you.
How long do you intent to sit there? Are you waiting? Are you hoping? Are you waiting for hope? Are you hoping that waiting gives you an answer?
Or maybe hoping as in waiting is not so distant to you. Is it bitter sweet? Do you find the feeling comforting in familiarity? Irony isn’t it.
Will it help if I give you a call, or drop you a message? Will you feel better? Will it soothe the pain, nudge the spirit or make the passing of the day more bearable?
And if I am to send you a message, it will probably go like this:
“Hi yoz, wanna have dinner?”
Innocent and non-suggestive. Very everyday. Concerned.
But will you come? Or the corner of yours is more appealing? Will you shudder away, discomforted? Do you not want to go out and face the world so huge and limitless that threatens to swallow you up whole, sorrow and all? Is there no place for you? Does the world, in its vastness but yet its denizens, crowd you out?
Know this that fear is but an emotion, a state of mind, which can be overcome by a greater state of mind. Know that while you fight your battle in that corner of yours, you are equipped with nothing more than a splitting mind.
Know that when you shrink your world into that corner of yours, it is just a choice. For the world is much more than that corner that is everything to you. The world is limited by your perception of it. It in itself is limitless, borderless, spanning through ages and time.
I think you are having a bad day. For if you are not, it will be a terribly unfair world for me to ponder this over while you are having the time of your life, no?
posted by andeo at
10:35 AM
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