A Random Afternoon...

Sitting here… all alone, ideas, thoughts and some stuff creeping inside my head. Asking myself what better things to do besides staying still and moving about the house!? I really don’t have the single of clues to what interesting activities besides cleaning up the yard trickled with fallen leaves from the trees surrounding the house. Nothing more but afternoon chores I’ve grown accustomed with, thereafter, I sit, eat, move about or if not look endless over a blank web page thinking what decent phrases would spur out of my busy stagnant mind.

What happens now?! What’s next!?

Looking up, all I see is a blue sky with scattered clouds moving in, passing by, blown off by the wind.

The wind kisses my cheek every now and then, the soft rustle of the leaves that go by with it; the playful chirping of every bird nestled on the trees, and the glary streaks of the setting sun.

These past few days, all I can think of is work but not totally moving or if not, staying for that annoying ring hoping that somehow it meant I’m up and vacation’s over. Yet, all I have are a few inane missed calls and blank inboxes filled in with telecom updates. Boring. Blank. Useless.

Mocking the time, every day all I have to think about in every waking hour I have are the chores I’ve thought about every night before I die to a melatonin-filled tantra or those things that are yet to be done. Routine stuff.

What goes after this!? What happens next?? Queries so broad any thought of rationalizing would be some ridicule to oneself as it is unsolved even simplified thought measure of intelligence or dumb-wittedness.

I can go no longer with this literacy as the human attention span as abide to mine is no shorter than an hour and no longer than the aforementioned statement.  Suffice it to say; the looming darkness would soon be embracing me as the cold drafts shall tickle my toes, making goose bumps creep along my spine… stars would scatter in the night sky and I hope the moon would bring light tonight. But it will be hours from now before all these sceneries happen.

For now, I’ll wait for the sky to turn purple and the sun to glow blood orange. The setting of the sun is about to start and the day is almost at the end… where would I be??!

I’m in the best place in this world. I’m where I want myself to be. Standing still, watching a beautiful random afternoon.

Loneliness

Cold drafts blows through the window and all I can do is lay victim on every freezing tingle I get from it. Winter winds from the north pass through the country hinting that the white-flaky holidays are coming in and frosty, darker nights would be looming from the corner at every purple sunset.

It’s half past 11:00pm and the clock ticks like no unusual occurrence. Normal. Mundane.

A blue paved page lays blankly for my eyes to see and my mind to fill with ideas I don’t have the single clue what may mean. Looking through it as every click matters nothing but some idiot’s incapacitated plea for attention. Noting more like some dense belief over something so unreal to fill with life even in its inert of existence.

Say, boredom has its benefits and the setbacks could just be more tormenting than dealing with the fact that some productivity could be well earned from it. To add, boredom has its twin… depression comes all too easy as it goes to hard.

I may say it might just be the weather, rain have had its untimely visit since the early streaks of sunlight.

Or maybe because I chose to be depressed, sad, lonely… thinking what could’ve been. Filling the frustrations in things I can never have. Playing the saddest of songs. Looking at some person’s face I can never be with. Speculating on thoughts that could never come across my basic thinking. Dreaming wildly over minute ambitions that would mean a lot.

There is no drama in life. There is only hope.

There is no fear or doubt. Only the strength to face the odds.

There is no sadness. Only more tears of joy.

There is no broken. Only a choice to be success.

There is no death. Only the will to live.

Love beyond measure.

Happiness amidst every grief.

There is nothing incomparable to what one can get to what one can’t think of but to what one can do.

Cold. Rain. Frost. All to sum up, this sad hymn I play as I choose to be depress and bored to make this few reasonable piece of literacy.