Classical music is really beautiful. It protrays the life of unspoken talent and also gave voice to what was once beautiful in life. However, classical music has been undermined by the anguished and unworthy generation. Was life easy during the period before various revolutionary changes? Was the trouble of life unspoken before and conspicuous today? As i was listening to a ballade by Chopin known as 'Raindrops', i began my ramblings...
Life's so troublesome when you have people whom you can never get along with. Life is also stressful when you meet people who shows different characters everytime that you'll never know which is their trueself. Life is stressful when you know you can never depend on anyone but yourself and your instincts. Life is much more stressful when you know a person can have 100 different personalities to decieve you.
People are just so hard to get along with sometimes. Especially those who thinks they are all that and also those who hides from the world... their depression; their heartache; their happiness; their loneliness; their oblivion; and their troubled mind. Whenever you show how much you care about them, they just push you right into the corner of darkness and have your shadow walk all over you. No matter how hard you try to understand someone, their true colours never show until the day you think you know them good enough to gain their trust, a lie is just lingering around the corner. Life's a bore when you know no matter how hard you try to escape from the pain of striken reality, it hunts you down like a hawk to its prey.
My heart cries alone all night to understand how a human mind works. How can one spend so much time lingering in moments of sadness and loneliness? How can one juggle with various personalities at once? How can one say that she/he is fine, when she/he is not? It is precarious to know that no matter how much your mind ponders on things like these, nothing seems to be the right answer to the mentioned questions. There is nothing wrong to hide an unspoken life from the world, but it is just tiresome to have one feel that they are apart of it.
Another night where my insomnia is getting to my head; another night where sleep is all i need but can never have; another night of terrible heartache and lonesomeness; another night with the radio on but with no suiting songs to listen to; another night feeling hopeless; another night of agony and silence which needs to be fought off. I feel hopeless; I feel a need to cry to the world to change their every being. Can one show their true innocence before the eyes of the beholder? Life's complicated enough and now, we have to face the wonders of each human being we come to be in contact with.
The problem with life is that nothing seems real enough to feel, to touch or even to hold. Everything seems to be an illusion of the soul and to the eye. What's real is what you can feel, for what you thought you felt is just an illusion of the heart. What you think you saw was just another hallusination right before your eyes. The next day when you get up from sleep, you'll finally find out what is it like to leave yesterday and start a brand new day. Your body may have left yesterday, but your soul and mind are still pondering on what happened just the day before. Nothing can be momentarily, nothing can be eternal as well. It is because of the reality before the eyes that we fear of each days' happenings around us. We fear of what's fearless, we fear of what's frightful, and what we fear most is what's before us.
Nothing is momentarily... absolutely nothing... not memories, not a dream, not a prayer nor a certain sadness felt. What is momentarily is a smile of one dearest to you which you can never have the chance to see it once again.
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