It’s strange how we all have a persona,
An image we’d like others to see.
A charm and charisma, an emotional clothing
It’s nice but it’s not really “me”
The real me, the me of me, the “who” that I am,
He’s not cool, calm or collected.
Inside the thoughts his head go crazy,
Like an untamed deranged juvenile. He’s a mess
Always overthinking random stuff of conversations he had.
With friends or strangers
Thinking the best, then ruminating the worst,
Battering himself with enfeebling fears.
He hide these fears behind fake actions, fake smiles,
Fake talks or fake phrases
Convinced that a fake him is better than the real him,
For now and the rest of always
A mind in overdrive can be really exhausting. Phew!
Most of us portray a fake us to keep up with society on a day to day basis.Until in the end it consumes us and we become that of which we pretend to be.
Some say that a man lives a better life when he sheds all masks. The truth underneath just needs to be brought into the light.
So what are your thoughts on it? Can we shed all masks?
I believe it’s only natural that we have private and public persona’s to some extent.
Also, on serious note, I want to dive into spirituality. I know the word “Spiritual” is abstract, but something tells me that it has answers to my questions. So please suggest me something, books or some accessible texts, so that I can propel the quest to find myself and my life’s purpose.
Up I went hiking among the soul of clouds
Hoping to catch the sun seeds in my palm
As petals sing a lullaby it gets so real and
I cast my heart into the stream of its melody
The brook is cutting through the boulder
with every single precious beat
set sail the worries on a willow
as meadow fairies hoist the breeze
In silent conversations with the heavens
relaxing on a log that’s been expertly hewn
I can hear the patchy sounds of the horn
ushered by a gentle zephyr
Time to descend and collide with obligations
The plastic smiles replacing imposing nature
Walking around, with the fake crowd,
As if pretending to be alive!
The paradisal green hill
holds a floral formation
A sign of dynamic beginning
sprouting forth -a peaceful trail
Blue waters caress
a craggy shore
as light drenches earth’s floor
a wilderness – with utter brilliance
Crimson red grapes
shine beneath the sky
sun surrenders to its twilight fate
glowing embers -of an autumn tree
Grass and weeds asleep
Riding winter’s wind
Snow drift, snow flakes in a snow line
Cold moon rising- a frozen scarecrow
Beneath a star studded vista
a resplendent guiding light
Smiles and kisses him as
He weeps and inhale, trying to let go.
The soothing sea winds
unable to carry his grief
Flutters making him see through
glimpses of truth, hidden beneath
In a seascape of serenity
Tossing life like a trash
Leaving behind every moron
He steps forward, to a new beginning.
With each crest of a wave
Pressure builds up
eerie silence, uncertainty reigns
He knows not where he’s heading to
solus exposed uncovered
a long distance
somewhere down in the night
a long time before first light
dew shapes on you
painting you into the image
I go to my haunt
riding my bike
then I hike
I am bold
though it’s cold
Don’t get know better
To run In cold weather
Without my jacket on