Wednesday, March 30, 2011

F-A-I-T-H................ less...........

I want to find my purpose, my direction, my path, the path which I have lost because of this transformation into someone I can’t recognize. I am clueless about my life and writing everything down is just an attempt to grab one end out of the tangled up strings which would lead me towards a direction.
I have been through this metamorphoses sort of phase, which has converted me into some entirely new person; I cannot say whether I like it this way or not, or if I am still looking for my old self somewhere.
The old me is still hiding somewhere inside of me, very much intact, but I am constantly denying it, only because I can’t bring myself back.
Somewhere inside of me, I still seek company, I still look for someone to be by my side in the hour of need, sometimes I still cry my heart out like old times, but then I just shut myself and go into this denial that I can be on my own.
Living without a direction is difficult, especially when you can’t find your directions in your faith, because the unanswered questions in your mind demand an answer, a justification, a reason, and when this does not happen, you are deprived of your faith

Monday, March 7, 2011

What do u do when.......??!!!!

You stand back and lean on your dirty shovel, wiping sweat off your forehead with the back of your free hand and stare at the patch of freshly upturned earth a few paces ahead. The deed is done.

And then, one day, your hard work pays off. The vivid green finger of the seed you had sown pokes out of the soil, extending day by day as it struggles to touch the sky. You immediately begin nurturing it. Soon, it unfurls a leaf, and then another one and then one more.

But things begin to go wrong.

You watch in horror as the seedling, tainted by the touch of some fell force, begins to transform into something twisted. Sharp spines and midnight black thorns sprout all over it until it seems jagged enough to cut the very air surrounding it. It grows - fast - but at odd, horribly contorted angles. The flowers it sends out in the dead of winter are dark red, black even, and give off the unmistakable, metallic stench of blood.

What do you do?

What do you do when you begin to grow into wrong sort of person, the kind of person you never wished to become??????!!!!!!!!!!!..............