Release your darker thoughts

you are putting a simple matter in a vicious philosophical circle, and in such a situation abstract ideas are useless. The thing is very simple: GOD has created us with faculties, with a capacity of doing something and succeeding in doing it. For me we should deeply root in our minds the idea that we are created to produce something benificial for the others and for ourselves too. So I think instead of meditating at a crossroads you should know what is your role in this life and face the Bull, and fight and fail and succeed.. then fighting and failing again and again..then falling and falling but learning and getting stronger at every fall..swallow your life do not be swallowed by it...gentelman do not let deep thinking kill your action..otherwise you'll repeat the flaw of Hamlet

" ' Tis 4h26, I'm half asleep and trying to create some expressions and then find out a way to squeeze them in short paragraph. What's the use of being so attached to something terrestrial whereas we are so very sure that it is not everlasting? Life is too short to be celebrated,indeed. Death is lurking around every corner. That's so eerily expressed and at such a time but why should I follow the norm? why should I follow the already established lore? This sheep-like behavior did me no good so far. There will come a day when everything shall be annihilated - no one alive then is to elude it," he answered.

My brother..it was never about dreaming but about reaching some dreams we're not even supposed to be encombured of having.Dreams..murdered by the envious demons of the hidden unknwon.Shall we choose to moarn'em like an enfenticided kids, not even happy of a second of life we're tired of.Or some unheard siloliques we utter in the chilly nights of confusion, wishing to echo our ache into the ears of the unaware.The pain that drops as tears, shrinking of cold that blows in you like east winds,you expect no tender hand to help you out of the jailing jaws of time..and yeah, you go face whatever.Forgeting what torments more, we never were afraid of what we seek out, even when we aimed for the impossible.With the spirits of adventurers..we feel no fear.

" I wouldn't stigmatize your innocent mind, yet The society is in a turmoil. The world we're living in is ostensibly fine but so much suffused with nepotism and venality in real. Your plans will be thwarted and you'll be put to the ground even if you're a real "virtuoso". It's a world for the affluents to enjoy and not for he who can barely walk unless using a crutch ( I'm proud of this shabby-genteel kind of guy nevertheless).I once had so many deliriuos dreams that I could hardly differentiate between them and horrid nightmares. They kept coming and made me ecstatic for a while, only to see them, a little after, crushed down like a precious mirror in front of my eyes. No pathos is needed though, because I am happy where I am standing now,"he answered.

Even a fresh gambler would think that he is gonna win the first game played in front a bunch of pro-swindlers.....Even a non_experncied fisher dreams of Fishing Hemingway's Pout the first time he handles his Fishing rod......this is called the principle of favorabily....or simply: BIGGINER's LUCK.....The same happend with me......my dreams were as huge as the summit waves of CRANE's THE OPEN BOAT.....But.....THESE dreams were crashed in so simple way that DAVID COOPERFIELD himself would feel sorry and pitty for me, And would make EDGAR ALLAN POE an optimistic writter...and would make the great Gatspy give up his fortune...nOt For DAISY this time...but just to see some ambitious pal realizing his Drowned Dreams... rescue , and make him reach the land after an endless journey , alone in the middle of the Hurricanes , where no one seems to hear ....or better say...Not To CARE......

In my heart there is a sun
that burns me every day
It turns me into dust
and sprays me far away
To the north, to the west
where winds finally lay

but in winter when it is dark, and cold
it warms me, it makes me bright
Every thing i touch becomes gold
In the darkness i'm a source of light
About me fairy tales are told
for being the bright sprite

Oh sun ... sun of my heart.........

Nice and way to go Bryne..

Awake and sober as ever..my hollow chamber seems to throw me out of its stillness.So left out with memories that survived to whisper to me tenderness, if some part of past smells so dearly tender.Remember..and fold the pages of your life with sensless hands neglecting it all..can you awaken your past?
Remember..and feel nothing.From the window look at the night out and remember.Never wonder why its charming color ever exists the most.For it does not only cause it's beautiful, deeply gothic..nicely sad..but it's the color of nothingness.Feel nothing..see nothing..and remember..
That's beautiful.

"Grappled with my conscience over things I've done and lamented eminently for I overlooked so many constraints. There came a day when I drew an itinerary whose departure was repentness and the final destination is still yet vague. Some foolish and unrestrained deeds foiled my plans though and sent me all the way back to the departure point. Yet, a glimpse of hope jostled through my trivial and depressed thoughts to the surface. I wondered how so slight of a feeling would rapturously made me feel! It also served as an asylum from all kinds of fears. It ushered me towards the straight path, or at least to its like. It burnished my daily life and shoke off of me the negative energy. Although in a state of extreme fervor, I still wondered if it would last for long? The answer was an emphatic "No". Then, I realized that nothing is everlasting and nothing is worth to be so melancholic about. If your help and love toward the bereft ones are as profuse as they are toward your own self, I dare say that the results would be so benign,"he replied.

...would anything taste heavenly sweeter? i never hesitate to break so softly as waves do facing the shore ageless rocks.I ask whether i want much..whether i want at all..and i find my answer so light and fregile to hold when i seek peace in the heart of my solitude..while so, i dare meet my true self.A foggy future lays ahead..as the remaining scorns of recent past haven't healed yet..dear signs they are..hardly forgiven mistakes to teach like no teacher ever dared and did.How can they not?for the countless times i stayed unseen to bleed..the light i saw so far and desperate..expecting to be taken by a dry death.Feeling that you're not felt..knowing that you're not known..seeing that you're not seen.Stillness scares while there's nothing besides_me_ breathing.I did not trust this world.

"Trust... a word that's been extorted from my dictionary.
Confusion... it punctures my life still.
Estrangement... a life style that's akin to lonliness.
Repentness... a necessity to everyone's well-being.
Decadence... a stage that preceeds greatness.

Here are some images that loom to one's mind what a normal person goes through. I would not demonize such thoughts and would not think they are diabolical as many of you would do. Yet, what is cataclysmic is to overlook or to lampoon one's thoughts no matter how very trivial they are - That is an egregious affront, if you ask me. Thoughts and feelings are so palpably volatile. Today you're happy, the next day you're not,"he claimed.

Being me..is it so unbrearble to believe that in darkness i like to walk aimlessly..in chaos i lay as dead restlessly..that i don't appreciate this to be a moonlight and that to be a sunlight.That i would follow the tide of the unwalked paths of uncertain places..i feel cold in the killing heat, still.My unrhymed steps lead me where i was nailed to the love of the dearly ones..where i was blessed more than my heart hoped.Summoning the shadows of the passed by past, i wish i'd never hear no laughter echo of the gone friends,for the fregile heart will squeeze its bitterest tears upon no worthy where.I smiled enough in the sweet flames, to never feel shamed to moan over the ashen dipartures..i thought i sighed out all the sadness inside..but a lot of it stayed still.The soul is drenched with sorrow..and the oceaning air is to flow.. lost and dispatched among the many i feel sober..i embrace the touches of the breathing nigth..but here i breath but in a coffin.
Voices hushed..colors are dull..to be..to feel..downer than depression.

The incipient signs of despaire jostled through the glimpses of hope which were once repressing them. This ambivalence is believed to be ever lasting in everyone's soul. It is an integral part that might lead to self-innihilation. It is an axiom that suppressed feelings will soon find an outlet from the inner rigorous prison in which they are tightly locked. If that happened,one would stand still, doomed by an inertia and everything would seem ineffable to him. Hence, one's behavior needs to be vindicated. When the id takes over, would that mean "total insanity" in the language of psychologists? Such a term would seem inchoate to me so, I'd dub such a person "Mr. Sad man"

Right there were were..wondering our ways we've been thrown to wonder..for soughts encumbered since innocent kids..for aims loaded upon us by parents that we love..and by ourselves.I still hear the words that chase me with tormenting letters.The world was bigger..or were we only smaller to see it was?I glare at my life and meditate..while others look at theirs and smile.As rapid as i know not how it went,no sooner had i eyed an aim than time took it.The dimonsions of my world were thundered enough till it is so slow, feeling i breath in water.Do i feel so light?this reading deepens my loneliness..let it!
I sleep so long skipping everything tied to the concscious..i make sure i enjoy escaping the reckless cruelty that sees us never..going..visiting that other edge where dreams are.The heart feels so useless..the mind is wished to have a pause of peaceful thoughtless rest..my ears dare to hear the rain that warms me not..but i shan't bother it as i peer into this familiar darkness..flying shadows are welcoming.."i don't know you shadows..but here i am among"...

This is one of the very few moments when I wish for the incapability of seeing. I looked up and saw dreams vaporizing and being diluted with air where they lost their essence. What gives one sleepless nights is not that they were emanated from eminent members in the society, but from the alluded poor men who have always thought they could make it. I looked on my right and observed the hypnotic people who walk rapturously, thinking that this world is suffused with goodness. I longed to wake them up, but they went too far with their pinky dreams that my short hand would never reach them. I looked on my left and there were a bunch of bereft people who seem to be living in a constant dearth. I felt affiliated to them and wanted to be a part of their daily life. However, there were another group of people behind me, and as I looked to see, they seemed so stern, filled with hatred, stigmatized, and antipathy characterized the look on their faces. They also seemed to be grappled with "life" and to be running after something that is more precious than their own lives even... money.

These scenes conjured up to my mind the feeling of confusion again. I felt like the epitome of confused people and also felt sick at heart for my incapabilty to do anything for those people. This scurtiny I did crutched my self-helplessness and ushered me towards a better path. Driven by an ineffable fear of being reached by those people behind me, I only saw one way out... to advance and look no ther way but ahead and therefore save the one soul I am responsible of...

Everyday but everyday i think u,War!!! For peace, for Revenge, for Light, for Life... we were always learnt that u are a big fault... u damage everybody, u damage everything... Maybe, u are the faith of life... Nightmare of Living... But, but i know that u are the only solution for peace... U are the only hope for melting children from fire... Only u can put out the fire of hell on the earth!...
Maybe, maybe ill be ashame of myself due to this... maybe people will hate me due to bad ideas.. They will call me as satan... Maybe, maybe ill be on the devil people's list!"Look at hat girl! What a crucial one,SHE!" Neverthless, i wont be sorry for it... I need it... mmy feelings need it... Everyday but everyday, i fed up with hearing the death of Muslims, Poor, Innocent children ... i fed up with seeing the Lead spots on our soldiers' wearing... I hate to see the woman who are crying with death children on their hug... Without war, the Only way is Allah' s wishings... But, if this is a approaching for doomsday, my war will be my doomsday... One day, but, one day, There will be a great war against cruels... and I will be the one of pioneers...

Has any spirit of us ever felt new?That one no longer carries one's pains where mountains weep unbothered..behold the familiar miracles and be filled with respect.Doesn't it seem that we live the way we have to?We're wearing ourselves and treading in new lives,yes!Yet never know why numbly following steps already taken.Ride your unique thoughts to the heights of your cleverness..and learn through the course of confusion and untidiness.Try not need what you're without.Turning the chapters of your dusty life..passionate about dining your hopes in crimson nights..if they like to fade where pain dwells easy..wait not to leave an ashen shadow there.Gothic calmness embraces..damned of shrugging shoulders in doubt..tomorrow I'll turn sour in agony..sober in the living cemetery.Feeling familiar to my curse of being cast into a thorny maze, as no more pain will be out of veins in roaming.The mood is sickened and desires for a coming doom..ghosts will sing for what's left of after..here it is..hear it..

Marred by titles of optimism, embraced by sepia joys and atmo-like love happy ending silly serie,whlie the skilled authors upon whose prosed illusions eyes are never sober about.Letting their faithless doubts take over what they think they know..keep withdrawn behind the busy shoulders and wait for a graceless whistle to run the bloods cold,nah..as a sweet ditty enjoyed in the very boyhood.We'll aid imaginations paint the sweetest pains as moods have no readiness for any romance.Say it's no Grecian wisdom..for the hearer wishes being less than to be overwhelmed by pensive melancholy.Poor mortals..life counts on no dice to throw in sweet luck..as it ends oneday, wish you'll not appreciate the preciousness of you plodding in it all along.How shattering.

Many looked daggers at me as I was hurled at with all sorts of words and looks for my dark thoughts. They formed an aversion to me and accused me of staining this thread. I tried to dispel these thoughts, and succeeded for a short period of time, only to face them once more. I am addressing those who are standing aloof by saying loudly and proudly that I'm anything but brittle. I'd like to think of it as a transitory phase when the pen and the keyboard masqueraded as my best friends and they played their "roles" so well. If you gather every single post here, you'll realize that it was a kind of a tale; every post marks an event in my life that happened over the last month or so. I don't lament a word I previously wrote as I won't lampoon a word you'd ever write. Try to fit in and use this thread to externalize your deepest thoughts in an aesthetic manner, if possible.

Dark is my purity, immaculate is my sin! Sense the nonsense with a cynic contempt to matter and unleash your spiritual scorns. To under-stand whatever is your stand you should stand off that stand and stand out any new stand. Stand to your inner voice for it's neither up nor down. Sail nowhere for you would manifestly get somewhere. Heavenly matters transcend earthly eyes, and since no revelation's left for a mortal world, cry not the blindness of worldly concerns. Such is an odd to Alexander!

Such is an odd to Alexander!
Such is an odd to Alexander!
Such is an odd to Alexander!
...a lot odd to those under the oblivious shade of usual shelter, odd as you imprison your sights in doors, a little odd if you feel shattered at heart, and no more odd when you blink..and you're to the slowliness of lonesome you.
Having this engraved exhaustion that rejects departing, the uncaught shadow behind chases your moves withering your warmth in bloods..hail the night that heals you with diseases.Care not, grasp the pen and wisdom around, give up to becoming wanderer than you were, and rhyme your ink on pages not yet by time yellowed.Meditation shall be sought amid your lines, eyes are to draw in the air, and on the terrible morrow dawn..tears will _escape out_be drying cold.
Why can't shatter the parentheses of your sparkless grief?Why not freeze the dominion that dooms your wants?Tired of the sight of spider in front..deafened by the melodious very old piano that dusts! Tip-toe my friend to the top of stillness where time seems not to matter, pray to taste the sacredness of nature, and touch with belief the dreamed up truism..
Splendid it would be!

..creeping in blinding mist, it's not in the far Irish Meath! the heart like a spong drenched with disappointments after years fearsomly passed, nothing cheers up while the fear of old days still haunts you yet, are you able to move on through the ruins? Through your dreams that are made of glass not to last some joyous whiles longer..nothing is left out for you now..but by pen you are..caressing the scriptural drafts as winds caressed roads before your steps before.