“ When I stopped loving, I lost purpose; When I stopped loving myself, I lost myself. ”
The passing clouds outside the window form the perfect backdrop for wavering frames I see moving inside my mind.
~ Pavitraa Parthasarathy
The seeming legitimacy that existed in mind a second earlier vaporized before they could be carried out, leaving the air barren.
In times of turmoil, void or suffering, closely stays the images mirroring the lived, far seems the unknown to be; pick yourself a lens to see through, your eyes touch the distant mountains and the lived past disappears into ponzo illusions.
Sometimes I fear those noisy words boiling in an unsettling cauldron.
