Discerning Moments

The day always holds that extra edge compared to night. In fact, the edges seem to be menacing (a visual distortion), but always appear dull from constant friction.

Well, in comparison, the day of yesterday is paler, and the argument becomes vociferous on lost opportunities.

Relegated to insignificance or retired in some corner of the mind amidst constant struggle. Everything is compared- from the scenes to dialogues of protagonists. Essentially, the turmoil starts brewing and reaches an intense stage of aromatic disaster; a torture on the senses.

Night is perceived to be an adversary to be slayed with constant reprimands. Dreams are pushed away inconsiderately. Looking at the scattered thoughts and faces appear as apparitions. Enthusiasm of the day declines and forcibly revived by a stern taskmaster, that’s black coffee. The dreary eyelids of words gain that momentary spark to combat the night.

Amidst discrimination and distraction there is that phase of utter bewilderment. Isn’t it that we become trained to think and create a barrier against free thinking? There is a tendency to deform the dimensions of existence and form a mere hollow sphere. Through the vacuum, the significance of day and night diminishes to daily skirmishes.

Fighting with and against everything! The only edge that gains significance from such friction severs the vital ties with feelings. It is an obdurate habit of discriminating one single day due to their dual nature.


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