Cosmic Whole || I'm too fond of reading to care to write mine

09/09/2023

The concept of identity is illusory. We are part of a "cosmic whole", momentarily fragmented and covered in skin and bones. Once we realise this deeply, we will be able to be happy with someone else's success as if it were your own, to feel their pain as if it were our own. Even the concept of space and time feels illusory. The past still exists and the future already exists. It's all written in the sparkle of the eyes of the people you look at when you let your guard down a little. It's all encoded in the scroll of story that unites us and the universe through a mysterious connection that we have momentarily forgotten.

// // //

To write is to slow-dance with your soul and then offer it to drink, hoping that night you will sleep together, falling in each other's abysses.

This Heart of Mine

Yiruma said he wrote this song when his father-in-law passed away.
I can relate to the feelings of grief and loss.

The seasons change, days pass and time flies. 

But there are some people who remain silent,

running in place,

experiencing difficulties whatever they are.

I like to see people passing around me smiling. 

Despite the fact that a smile can be mysterious.

There are people who are genuinely smiling because they indeed are happy,

there are also some who use smiles as a weapon to make them look like a kindhearted person,

and there are those who use smiles as a mask to cover up their wounds

within that hearts of theirs.

That's life.

That's humane.

Then those who are wounded were usually choose to be the water, flowing,

wherever destiny brings them.

But I remember the ink streaks of the talented artist Noor Iskandar,

"You asked me what was my element. I thought of the wind. I am the night whispers at the back of your neck, I am a hurricane of gestures."

I want to be the wind,
at least if I cannot stand to be the water which is submissive to fate, 

I could become the wind, invisible yet soothing.

I've always been wondering, those who have an easy life without twists,

are they genuinely happy? 

Have they ever felt that there is an empty space in their hearts?

Are they smiling sincerely?

And I'm thankful for the existence of the sky,
That masterpiece is my comfort zone.
I have always loved the twilight, when the sky is reddish orange,
sometimes pink,

when adhan echoes, 

when the lights on the roadside lit, 

I love that time of day. 

As if they illuminate your path to somewhere,
that make you heart a little less heavy.

But.. "—maybe I am both ice, stone cold and raging fire, flame." —Noor Iskandar.