It’s funny how people and universe are so related and not related at the very same time.
I carry this.
I keep failing at looking through things, constantly.
I keep knowing right
Yet, keep practising wrong.
It won’t be incorrect if i call my life ordinary
But myself, extraordinary
I watch clouds for hours only to see something more than just clouds
There are nights which bring thoughts to me instead of sleep,
Meticulously arranged thoughts
There are hopes clashing with realities
How we keep desiring and defending emotions,
How people meet unplanned and unexpectedly.
But once they meet,
They start to plan everything
Each bit of this whimsical life.
Creating paradox and calling it funny.
How every moment is roughly an illusion,
Until it comes to an end and become a memory.