This isn't a poem.
It's just a string of thoughts barely connected to each other.
****
I like the night.
It seems so full of potential, of possibilities to explore which are too shy, or too drastic to be undertaken during the day.
Day means routine. Routine is boring. It is who you are on a daily basis, what you do for a living. I am a student, you are an officer in a government department. It is the niche that we've carved for ourselves through years of toil.
The night, on the other hand, is the devil's workshop. It offers a chance to embrace who you want to be. To do things you don't, or can't do during the day. Take up where you left off when you went soul searching.
At night, when I am lying alone on my bed, I feel a zest to live. Not just to survive, but to passionately embrace what is being meted out to me. Good, bad or ugly, the night urges me to conquer my fears and be bold.
It is inviting.
And if you (vulgarian) are getting any wrong ideas while reading this, please don't.
Click the refresh button of your mind, it must be there somewhere. Look for it.
Then come back here, I am waiting to proceed.
The creativity that the night unleashes in me is unbelievable.
Once, some years back, I had promised a friend to do her poem writing assignment, but throughout the day, inspiration failed me. The night came along, and I went to sleep, ready to take refuge in "writer's block".
But as the clock struck one, i woke up, and wrote a poem in an enchanted state. It came most naturally to me, as if it had been there all along, fully formed and already perfected, just waiting for the right pen or paper to be etched down.
Once the poem completed itself (I seemed to have little hand in it except holding a writing tool), i went back to my world of slumber.
In the morning, I read it, and realized it was an outstanding piece. Of course, my friend received excellent remarks, and therefore, so did I. I'm very proud of it.
But till date, I don't know how it happened. It just did!
It's just a string of thoughts barely connected to each other.
****
I like the night.
It seems so full of potential, of possibilities to explore which are too shy, or too drastic to be undertaken during the day.
Day means routine. Routine is boring. It is who you are on a daily basis, what you do for a living. I am a student, you are an officer in a government department. It is the niche that we've carved for ourselves through years of toil.
The night, on the other hand, is the devil's workshop. It offers a chance to embrace who you want to be. To do things you don't, or can't do during the day. Take up where you left off when you went soul searching.
At night, when I am lying alone on my bed, I feel a zest to live. Not just to survive, but to passionately embrace what is being meted out to me. Good, bad or ugly, the night urges me to conquer my fears and be bold.
It is inviting.
And if you (vulgarian) are getting any wrong ideas while reading this, please don't.
Click the refresh button of your mind, it must be there somewhere. Look for it.
Then come back here, I am waiting to proceed.
The creativity that the night unleashes in me is unbelievable.
Once, some years back, I had promised a friend to do her poem writing assignment, but throughout the day, inspiration failed me. The night came along, and I went to sleep, ready to take refuge in "writer's block".
But as the clock struck one, i woke up, and wrote a poem in an enchanted state. It came most naturally to me, as if it had been there all along, fully formed and already perfected, just waiting for the right pen or paper to be etched down.
Once the poem completed itself (I seemed to have little hand in it except holding a writing tool), i went back to my world of slumber.
In the morning, I read it, and realized it was an outstanding piece. Of course, my friend received excellent remarks, and therefore, so did I. I'm very proud of it.
But till date, I don't know how it happened. It just did!
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