Ever wonder how stars look bright how the rain falls on every piece of land to make it wet.? They are donating just for ours good or something else. They leave for something to happen or start. Something that make us alive; something that matters. From every step of a mountaineer, he/she leaves something behind.. something astigmatic something that remains to told the past and support their further journey. Something that has a start come from something that get forgotten by time and past. The starry sky is not the sky which shine little wonders. They shine the art, the art of satisfaction the art of optimistic eternal being. When I was old my grandma used to tell me stories about how brave the old people where. They die for their goals their purposes. They die to became a start and to shine in the dark and let the world see them. They (the stars) guide the lonely deserted and abundant travelers. Who lost their way, who lost their life of being driven so that far. With windy sky and windy mind finding their balance in the lone. Lone and silent. Silent but finding their hope.They remain and continue to walk and they are not hidden.
In a way of this cruelness the time came. I thought everything will be fine but time is never been ours it can change without our conditions. Without our say. That happen some days back.
Sun was up. Atmosphere was lit. Hotness was there and a burning truck do exist. I was to live now after resting in silence and then rising up to face this world. The time came. I lived for more than a decade without any effort without any goals. Without any reason without my words. In this hollow nature I had to make a decision to change the way and to leave the past and start a new forward life. I was ready. It was in just. Nothing was there anymore. Life is like a sandbag now. Everyone is jumping over it to see whether it bust or not. The stitches were not good it broke in just a single jump. The sand grains are too small to feel the pressure. They never see this hot world. The grains started to heat they want to cool but the weather don't want them to cool. It kept on increasing it immense heat. But the grains were very strong they kept struggling. In a past the hours escaped. The night was up. Moon was lit. Low light creatures were started to lit up. The sky was again goon into horror. The grains cooled. Seemed like they want to be like the way they were in the past. But time never be ours. Nor it others. Soon the day will lit. It do have some time to think whether to live in harsh or to make a shelter or to go in sustain and start new. The grains choose to go for to sustain. They found the mercy in moving forwards.
They moved and like to move and move and move. Their movement was fast and amazing. They were moving consistently. In the way, rock came. Stopping them and forcing them to go back. The grains were dying. Loosing their numbers but they are brave like stars they decided not to stop. One by one they tried but failed. None of them leave their places. Days, week, months past. Suddenly in that hot times a chill blow it was the indication of rain. By rain comes the winds. Some lost their way. Some died. But the brave one remain. He is persistent. He believe that theirs the happiness ahead. By raining the water blew up forcing the grains to rise up. One gone far. To win the race one grain tried his best. He rose up and joined the flowing water. That thrown him away in the flowing river. Time passed it met the ocean. It can see the sky it was up and bright. But the grain was cool and feeling good. He succeed in his duty. Living in light and completed its task. That grain was a living god now. He can feel the coolness of water and now can live in the open sky where it can do live in the Sun's eye.
My grandma was right. Doing great comes from thinking great. That grain was brave he made his name in the glorious stars but he was so unfortunate that I forgot to tell that those grains were actually cells. Sperm cells. Finding their way in dark and finding the meaning of life. Why can't we change now? Because we fear. They never fear. One shot wrong can bring up the success. Now I think you had understand my story ;) Leaving is.... Something?
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In a way of this cruelness the time came. I thought everything will be fine but time is never been ours it can change without our conditions. Without our say. That happen some days back.Sun was up. Atmosphere was lit. Hotness was there and a burning truck do exist. I was to live now after resting in silence and then rising up to face this world. The time came. I lived for more than a decade without any effort without any goals. Without any reason without my words. In this hollow nature I had to make a decision to change the way and to leave the past and start a new forward life. I was ready. It was in just. Nothing was there anymore. Life is like a sandbag now. Everyone is jumping over it to see whether it bust or not. The stitches were not good it broke in just a single jump. The sand grains are too small to feel the pressure. They never see this hot world. The grains started to heat they want to cool but the weather don't want them to cool. It kept on increasing it immense heat. But the grains were very strong they kept struggling. In a past the hours escaped. The night was up. Moon was lit. Low light creatures were started to lit up. The sky was again goon into horror. The grains cooled. Seemed like they want to be like the way they were in the past. But time never be ours. Nor it others. Soon the day will lit. It do have some time to think whether to live in harsh or to make a shelter or to go in sustain and start new. The grains choose to go for to sustain. They found the mercy in moving forwards.
They moved and like to move and move and move. Their movement was fast and amazing. They were moving consistently. In the way, rock came. Stopping them and forcing them to go back. The grains were dying. Loosing their numbers but they are brave like stars they decided not to stop. One by one they tried but failed. None of them leave their places. Days, week, months past. Suddenly in that hot times a chill blow it was the indication of rain. By rain comes the winds. Some lost their way. Some died. But the brave one remain. He is persistent. He believe that theirs the happiness ahead. By raining the water blew up forcing the grains to rise up. One gone far. To win the race one grain tried his best. He rose up and joined the flowing water. That thrown him away in the flowing river. Time passed it met the ocean. It can see the sky it was up and bright. But the grain was cool and feeling good. He succeed in his duty. Living in light and completed its task. That grain was a living god now. He can feel the coolness of water and now can live in the open sky where it can do live in the Sun's eye.
My grandma was right. Doing great comes from thinking great. That grain was brave he made his name in the glorious stars but he was so unfortunate that I forgot to tell that those grains were actually cells. Sperm cells. Finding their way in dark and finding the meaning of life. Why can't we change now? Because we fear. They never fear. One shot wrong can bring up the success. Now I think you had understand my story ;) Leaving is.... Something?
\Click to see more content.
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