Just the other day when our half day work was canceled, I had the chance to revisit my albums including some of my compilation folders. There I found one of my compositions five (5) years back.
And it goes this way:
This life is puzzlingly beautiful...
It involves exhilarating adventures, mystifying tricks, vague expeditions,
Simply ambiguous, isn't it?
For dubious reasons we are brought in this world to portray our role of being somebody...
Somebody representing our own self...
What I am trying to say?
I don't know.
Maybe I am this bit confused.
I am tired.
I merely got nothing to do.
How would I want to live this life?
How does it feel living a life like hell, and what is hell anyways?
Others may just utter - you could be a bitch sometimes, drowning yourself in an intended misery, letting yourself feel deliberate pain and anguish from your own misconduct.
Weird, how could a person take these ridiculous things?
We probably don't know what's on their mind?
And how could you live an absolutely blissful life?
Is there such a thing? I don't think so... in this world you can't just pick it up from anywhere.
And we must admit, people are plainly sucker of instant things.
Wanting to live a perfect life, which is also completely impossible.
For as they say nothing in this world is perfect.
As for me, ideal isn't real. It is simply unattainable, no matter how hard you work for it.
Setting standards would only mess you up and can even get you far miserable once not attained.
Imagine? Exactly written the same date as today. I did not expect I have kept something like this for years now. But this had made me laugh. Funny how I came up with these words, all I know is that I have not yet fully recovered from a heart ache when I wrote this. So I was really in the midst of great confusion then, at least I have expressed my emotions through this.
I had to retype it since It is in hard copy.