Beauty

Here, I am just trying to capture what I see. And I like it when my words obey me. This is a struggle in search of beauty. The abundance of it scares me, but I am still searching. I don't know if I am a non-conformist or what. I ain't a conformist for sure. Ain't I something in between. Aren't we all something in between, afraid only that we're totally reaching either shore. Isn't there beauty on either shore anyway. I will tell you. Tonite I will write about beauty, the one thing that has scared my wits. I want to write something that defies your interpretation, reach that zenith of exactitude.

There is beauty on either shore. If you're a conformist, you live like one. You go breathless for what you are supposed to have, have it, live with it, sometimes look through the glass at the illusion on the other side, the greener grass. But you live on, without raising a voice, revelling in mundanity and the security of it. Your clichéd life. And one day you die, and be buried. I am not being sarcastic, trust me, but there is beauty in that.

If you're a non-conformist, all you do is ask questions. Question the time trusted realities of life, so much that you threaten to extinction their very existence. You break rules like they never were. You pursue the un-pursued, look at the one who is not like you like she were a retard. You live like you have nothing to lose. What is to lose anyway. But sometimes, you look into the houses of people who chose to settle down and call it all off, and take my word, you feel for the possibilities you killed on the way. And there is beauty in that too.

But you're neither. You're in between, afraid only that you're totally reaching either shore. I am neither. But I am pretty confident I am on my way from one to another, from the former to the latter.