Dear past me, if I could tell you one thing it would be that
you are so strong
no one will realise how many things you have overcome by yourself  but yourself
so don't forget that those ordeals have broken and remade you into the blossoming woman you are now

Dear past self, you are not everyone else
you are you and nobody else
so you do not have to pretend to be a different person
you do not have to fit into anyone's mould, it would never hold  because everyone is sculpting using different materials

Dear past self, you do not have to be loud
because the people that are supposed to hear you have heard
everything you are saying

Dear past self, I want you to dry your tears now
because where I am, the sun is shining so fondly on your face
you are more or less happy in your skin, it is beginning to feel like yours

when the possibilities become infinite,
so are the lessons that come along,
every experience suddenly has more to it,
boundaries have a different meaning,
you get to dip your finger into the unknown,
taste it, heck even jump in it,
and once you settle back home,
your mind wanders to all the places
whose background you perfectly merged into,
you can shut the thoughts out,
but you can't build a wall,
the blinds are always open,
nothing is definite.

I am a blind man, figuring out this place, a chaos.
So I have told you initially.ok.

Crowded with the utmost fools, to the greatest beings.

From the cunning eyes to the melting hearts.

I am a blind man, so i am taking off, on a walk of discovery.

The past was unknown, and now, the future is a mystery.

Things that I have longed for in the most desperate times,

are there all around, not for me, but far away, 

having an unreachable shine. 

The fake laughs, the unbearable tears just to pull up the sympathy.

The rhetoric webs of the religious nobles, they just can't leave you alone, right?

Apart from being an individual, I am forced to be everything, but a pure human.

In morning a Hindu,
By night it turns into a muslim!

A screamer for nonsense.
Or a debater oozing just garbage.

No. This can't be the real life. These things.

They are not for me; just tease me, with a greedy smile.

A different world.

What a fool am I. Actually yes.

Because, I am a blind man. Not due to my lack of senses,

but since I was looking for the undeserving.

All these years went like a wasting, decaying dead figure.

What an idiot I was, in making a late choice.

It was never about the shine.

It's just a little spark of the ray, that you need.

Not a bag full of over joyful, screaming surprises,

but just a little slice from life.

I 'was' a blind man, doing all this, before the walk.

Not anymore, not now, never and ever.

For i know what i want.

Nothing.

Just a slice of life.

Sadly, it's with me anymore.
Call me, if you find it.

Don’t forget
To tell stories-
You’ll live through the joy
Twice;
Once in the moment
And again when you share them;
Tell them just as they happened
So you can experience the raw happiness once again

Don’t forget to tell stories-
You’ll process the pain
Every time you work through
What you thought
you could never face again;
Tell them in whatever way
Feels most gentle to you,
And rest easy
knowing that you are now in control.

Tell the ones you keep floating on the surface
Always ready to be grabbed and told
And tell the ones you’ve been clasping
Deeply in your fists for years.

Tell them for yourself
Or for others to know
That they are not alone-
But whatever you do
Don’t forget to tell stories.

It's funny how life slaps you in the face and force feeds you unwanted experiences