Emptiness of mind

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: October 23, 2016

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Submitted: October 23, 2016

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I simply cannot perceive the sky, as people do. 
Here I am facing nature. The sky, without a speck, is a benign immensity of purgation, no elapsing winds but with an exquisite brilliance and serenity, solely a phlegmatic, tranquil atmosphere. The day started under the sweltering sun as usual, flickering it rays on the water shining pacifically. 
As I remain stock-still, meditative, contemplating the blue sky..I couldn’t indulge with the current view and soothe myself, I’ve felt as if the sky was within a brooding gloom, as if in the early morning the shades of night were already mingling with the daylight, the sun has already set whereas the dusk fell on the stream, the gauzy clouds vanished upon a sky the color of a smoke, wherein the latter had no gilding stars to lighten it up. A frostbound sensation gripped me about the chest to pass off. Is my conception drifting to the wrong side? Am I that ominous to the point where I can’t perceive the world positively? Or is it just emptiness stealing over me? 
I am locking myself back to the grey life, with mere desolateness and emptiness hanging around, invading all the little shreds of peace I had left within me, just causing me to pursue in this such laborious, exasperating life with no aim and goals in sight. Thus, I keep on wondering, due to this emptiness am I going to sink in the growing compunctions? The longing to escape? Wearisome? Boredom? 
How can a person’s life be at a time restful, in good terms but readily, and squarely get eradicated in a blink of an eye, out of nowhere? As if a 
monsoon blowing a brisk furious gale nearly driving you out of your mind
How can it be filled, then be empty? Where does it go? Is there a hole that absorbs everything? 
An inconclusive hole of monotonous grimness, as arid as a desert and as gloomy as a dungeon, widely open to seize you hastily, mercilessly. 
I keep realizing, that it could be due to my own conception, if I ought to start cheering and uplifting myself up, all I’d need is to indulge in life. If that’s the case, then wouldn’t it seem eminently easy? Erroneous!  How can I appreciate my surroundings altogether, when I am detached from reality itself?


Emptiness is just…..a world full of an innumerable of inscrutable equivocal questions, with no answers. A vague baffling reality you cannot discern, as a certain coded message not eligible to decode.


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