Catching a cloud

I stare at him in wonder
He's a white cloud turning gray
I try to catch him and fail
Always forgetting he's air
To be Somewhere, anywhere
Is where he would rather be
I try to catch him and fail
I wanna know how it feels
To catch a flighty white cloud
Feel the air around me; Fly

Unending Love by Rabindranath Tagore

I seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless times…
In life after life, in age after age, forever.
My spellbound heart has made and remade the necklace of songs,
That you take as a gift, wear round your neck in your many forms,
In life after life, in age after age, forever.

Whenever I hear old chronicles of love, its age-old pain,
Its ancient tale of being apart or together.
As I stare on and on into the past, in the end you emerge,
Clad in the light of a pole-star piercing the darkness of time:
You become an image of what is remembered forever.

You and I have floated here on the stream that brings from the fount.
At the heart of time, love of one for another.
We have played along side millions of lovers, shared in the same
Shy sweetness of meeting, the same distressful tears of farewell-
Old love but in shapes that renew and renew forever.

Today it is heaped at your feet, it has found its end in you
The love of all man’s days both past and forever:
Universal joy, universal sorrow, universal life.
The memories of all loves merging with this one love of ours –
And the songs of every poet past and forever.

Restless

All those times wondering if I was adopted - wishing I was adopted yet finding out I was not. I thought how lucky it must be for people to find, after all their sufferings, that the parents they had were not their parents after all, and that the life they had was not the life meant for them after all.

I had it all figured out. I was gonna wake up, and it was all going to be different, I was the ragged girl who was gonna be Cinderella. I was the orphan with a set of wonderful parents.

Why don't I fit in here? Why am I so different? My soul wanders and my mind thinks differently. I am wired to be a disappointment to everyone. I am too emotional, too wrapped up in empathy or sympathy, so opposite the stoic and strong-hearted people that I live with. Too lazy, too useless, too angry, too restless, too different, too weak. I am the white sheep in the field of wolves, I am lost in this world that I have long thought not be my home.

Why did I have to find you? You who twisted my version of comfort zones? You who woke the repressed thoughts that I had. Those things I would have willingly forgotten, those things I shunned in order to have a life averagely acceptable.

I wish to travel by myself and just get lost.

Write and Write and Write and Write and Write

I just want to write and write and write and write until I exhaust myself to sleep and just write. Like a musician playing the piano on and on, pouring his soul into the ivory keyboards, playing the tune in his head that won't go away. Like the  cursed violin that kept playing ruining the life of the person who played it. Let me pour out my mind into this piece as I listen to She & Him. Talking about love in their songs, not like the shallow love songs in the radio today. Talking about bodies molding into one, about kisses and momentary passion. What is that to the love that I have felt? More than bodies, more than minds, more than words, more than ideas and activities shared into one.

How about the love of people whom you thought loved each other through thick and thin. 3 kids yet the guy looks for another woman. What makes a guy look for a third party anyway and why does it always have to be the guy? Is it impossible for a girl to look for another person also? What makes people look outside their chosen commitments anyway? Is it un-satisfaction? Is it boredom? Well there should be a lot of lacking in their lives not to be content in more than one partner. Why should the kids suffer? Why are people broken and imperfect, thoughtless and cruel? To be so honest to oneself would destroy the world and is frankly counter progressive to what they say is man's purpose anyway.

I want to rebel to all the thoughts that a rational man should have. I want to run away from being human and let go of all this rational side of me. I want to be a caveman, relying on the earth to provide me with food and shelter and my basic concerns involve only feeding my stomach and rarely my mind. But with my personality of always wanting to learn, of always being curious, I would be a fast learning caveman indeed.

My love's chapters

What do I really feel? Do I feel lust? Love? I feel like my heart's made of marshmallow, soft and maybe kind of shallow. But sometimes I think its like clay, easily molded to what my mind tells it to be. What is love? Is it the secrets shared in kisses under the rain. Is it the awe and wonder at the flying lanterns in the sky. The surprise of finding miracles in the middle of desserts. The cool breeze of the sea at night.

Is love the hands that hold me together when I think I'm shattering but whose hands are these? That which know who I've been and where I was. Why do you hold me once and yet let go. We danced to the music of our souls, we talked with the demands of our minds, yet that momentary waltz all but ended too soon even before I knew the music stopped. That momentary music that paused in the middle of the dance. I was left hanging and now I don't know where to go. Will you at least let me go? My Pied Piper of Hamelin. Take off this huge rock that you have lodged between my heart and mind. Your story is unfinished and I really hate it so.

You are a coward, a "Peter Pan". Who talks so much of the world and human nature. Yet you test too much the patience of a human heart. It is not in your hands.

When does our story end?

The kisses shared under the stars
The warm caresses under pale moonlights
I see these memories play on repeat
Repeat, repeat

The warm caresses under the pale moonlights
turn to steamy embraces
that goes on and on
Repeat, repeat

I see these memories play on repeat
and pause; When does our story end?
I ask myself this once more
Repeat, repeat