See… I’ll tell you the difference
You are a straight white line
You’re a single snort away from poofing.
While I run in the circles made of infinity
I’m a never ending rarity
No number of pots will ever be enough
To build what’s broken.
I took the morphine with me
When I left from that door,
Your ‘4:20 Somewhere’ rots in my closet
The closure
I think comes to you in a million ways,
Sometimes in ways of the world falling apart
And sometimes with a chance to put it all back together,
There will be baggage, of-course,
But then you’ve aced the art of solo travel darling,
Remind yourself of all the fiercer bulls you have leashed
& shoo this little pup away,
Remember,
You’re not the La La Land,
You’re the Oscar for it!
There are lives I have lived,
There are lives I haven’t.
There are hopes I have abandoned,
There are dreams I have forgotten,
I’m no superhuman,
Nor do I intend to be,
Like a humming bird
I fly back and forth,
I relive hopes and dreams,
They fear no death,
For none shall have one,
Like grandma’s abode,
We meet each burning fall,
With a promise!
When you are in a memoir territory, emotions become dominant at large. So much so, that once while reviewing a memoir, a New York Times Editor, (also a reviewer, a playwright, a critic, etc.) Neil Genzlinger, looked at the audience and started by saying, “A moment of silence, please, for the lost art of shutting up.”
-And I feel you Neil!
Before Barcelona shows you anything, it’ll show you free will!
And love if you ain’t the free will kind, don’t bother flying across oceans, come this far and let the albatross wing size city of liberals disappoint you.
But if you do, let it go!
Mallorca looks like the school project from above the clouds, the one that we used to orchestrate for historic structures! It’s astounding to witness something so enormous to be so laid back. It’s a wide, wet, lazy island, not the kind that’ll make you yawn but the kind that’ll make you wanna play your life in your head, one more time.The kind that’ll count every breath you take, every move you make, every bond you break, every step you take,’It’ll’ be watching you!!
It will not be the massive buildings and fancy architectures that would take your breath away, but little corners of buildings made in 1800s and the tiny churro stops that would make you wanna stay back and share a moment or two!!
Have you noticed,
How everything old has this beautiful,
Nasally mellifluous kinda fragrance,
Libraries full of old books,
Mom’s hair from her extralong hugs,
Lanes from your growing years,
Ripped Jeans from early years of college,
Pictures with no wrinkles,
Grandma’s Pickle jars,
And
Dad’s perfume,
oh, no matter where I am,
I will recognize them all,
Always!
Be A Paradox 