Words. Words don’t really come out as we want them to, sometimes.
We try hard to fit every little bit of emotion, and carve them with our sweat and tear. But still, they seem plain. They don’t reflect what is inside.
There is much beneath with which the beating heart holds. There is much that lies in those eyes which seem empty and hollow. There is plenty beneath; emotions, urges, and desires. They fumble with the boundaries that seem to keep off the exact meaning of these words we speak and write.
Words. Words don’t go deeper as we want them to. So cold and faint. They don’t reveal what is inside as we want them to. Ending up feeling displeased, still in need to pour out the incredible thoughts and emotions in words.
How unfortunate we become. Desolate and lone we still tremble to quench the thirst inside. We wander through the words, to see if at all we can add more, and wonder if our thoughts are sound in the midst.
We fight to subdue what is inside, take hold of it, and lay it out in the open.
How much we suffer to bring out what is inside as it is. No metaphors. No illustrations. No assumptions. Just as it is. Truth.
But if we want to breathe life in these words, then we have to take hold of the deepest emotion that drives us to the free world.
Where thoughts align with what aches, then the words will fumble right through to be accurate to what is inside.
I guess for these words to explore the adventurous truth of the inner self, then one must bare the skill to master own deepest emotion. And travel through the worlds of chaos, through which only what is inside, manifests exclusively.