Sunday, September 11, 2011

coming home

Never more wished I was left to myself. 


Now that I am going away in a few days, a need to be alone is being felt. Yea, it is a bit odd perhaps, I shall anyway become a stranger in a strange land soon. Yet the need to be with myself is being felt and profusely. I wish to talk to me. Been long I did that.

Sigh.

I miss you, me. :) We'll meet soon, very soon. Once the madness recedes. And once the ruffled pages of my mind settle down with the lull of the winds. I will meet you during one of my walks and perhaps we'll even have a quiet cup of coffee sitting together. Aah, even the thought is so inviting .. invigorating.

With each word I type, I feel a sense of homecoming and before I know it, a silent smirk draws across my face, chaffing me.."what did you think, you fool, I would be gone so soon?" Ha! I am almost celebrating. Me Me Me, where were you?! 


Words. Yes, even when all is lost and gone. And even though like a playful lover they evade me now and then. I love you!

Muah! Muah!



3 comments:

  1. I find painting hard work because of the wind, but I fasten my easel to pegs driven into the ground and work in spite of it, it is too lovely.

    (Van Gogh.)

    ;)

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  2. point taken :)

    wind doesnt let him 'work', to me it doesn't let me see. Nevertheless, the purpose of the wind is not lost on either.

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  3. wind doesnt let him 'work', to me it doesn't let me see...

    ...unless we are all born 'blind'. ;)

    ReplyDelete