i wish i could be as eloquent as i was back then when i need to write down my feelings. when the chambers of my heart have overflowed and needed emptying. or something as simple as unravelling the knots and tangles in my brain.

perhaps i have grown to wear the blasé skin and the cavalier dress too well. they fit me like a glove. and like most garments, we feel reluctance of peeling it off us when it is just comfortable the way it is. when the colours have become a habit for the corneas to gaze at although the fact was that, the shades were repulsive at first glance.

we bear with routines because there we find security. through conformity of solid shapes. even the remotest hint at the slightest change would send shock waves of fear darting in our veins. because shadows are not to be trusted, blinds must be shut really properly and we avoid looking beneath our beds. we create monsters in the creaking closet. we imagined the sound of wind brushing the branches as whispers from the other side, the darker, more evil side.

the thing that we don't really realise is that, there is no amount of prepared illumination is going to serve as warranty that there'll be no grey fog rolling by obscuring our path in the future. there is no guarantee, ever in anything not going bad, or perversely everything going on smoothly. everybody's road is crooked, we all have bad turns and unfortunate bends.

then why can't i not just take the plunge?

because the waters below the cliff is murky baby. i do not know the depth or how strong the currents are.

because the truth is, fear of any unknowns is like vines gripping my limbs.

the more i learned, the more i know and compare with things before , the harder i feel the the vise closing in around my throat.

i am immobilised by my own thoughts. my mental reveries made me an invalid.

i cannot move forward. i would not allow myself to take any step unless i have covered all the grounds. the problem is that i think i see little patches ahead and i imagined a vast field of infinite breadth and length that i should and must know before moving a muscle.

we want all things to be certain. we set the alarm clock to wake us up at the same particular hour every day we would like our teas and coffee's preferences remembered by the cafe owner and we love the fact that the bar stool has our name on it.

all nice and good but haven't i sworn myself never to be lured by the kind of life where everything has set out just the way it always has been and will always be?  that the true pleasures are to be found in spontaneity?

a decision must be reached and made. out of these turmoils and mess a crystal of clarity must arise.