An Endless Thing

One could have been guided by the instincts, but the pressurising effects took over and swept away everything. It was nature’s influence; not the kind one, but instigated by the events that were agitating the core of its meditative patience.

All the visible tracks are snatched away by the terrible reversal in fate. Nothing is linear, and the routes that appear lead to an uncertain environment. Even this reality is unstable! It is a struggle to preserve an identity when there are none. We create an identity and also believe in the experimentation with different reflections that is possible. Some are creatively devious in playing a game of invincibility by constantly balancing on the edgy intersections of concocted realities. The reflections may seem to be real to this persistent collective belief.

The exertions and tautness of emotions alter the constitution of life irreversibly. Why have we conceived and accepted such a liability? When the mind probably would have liked to be an obedient student to the teachings of natural occurrences, but the trajectory of an unthoughtful journey has created a parallel unstable universe. Nothing of that instability of cosmic changes that are conceived by profound consciousness.
There is always a grave disagreement with the universal consciousness with the one which we have interpreted and propagated. Certainly, the errors run deep in the particles of life, like reminders of time etched to count the experimental failures.


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