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The truth of our own making

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Freedom is neither an illusion nor a delusion. It is a choice—independent of any influence or external force. Yet, every choice carries consequences, whether beneficial or harmful, in both the short and long term. At its core, freedom is the ability to choose, based on the belief that truth is, in essence, of our own making. External forces—governments, corporations, and other authorities—capitalize on this belief. They control our perception of truth, shaping our decision-making. But ultimately, we are our own greatest enemy—the most loyal wardens of our own prison. A prison built from identity, social status, boundaries, differences, and countless other constraints. And the bitter truth is that there are many things we do not need—we want them simply because someone else wants them. This wanting creates an opportunity for exploitation. Our mind space is occupied by thoughts that are not our own, desires that are not our own—tempting lies that carve out a sense of inadequacy that, in ...
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Unusual Ruminations

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There is nothing wrong with me. It's just that the righteous feeling I have cultivated since childhood has stayed with me until this day. So, each time I encounter you, or more precisely, a version of you in another person, I hesitate. I cannot break free from the usual loop of thinking about you, searching for you, and for so long imagining myself being with you. Beyond that, there is nothing but the authority of time, which strips away all my feelings, and once again, I am back. Back to my comfort zone where all emotions fade. I am no longer myself, and you are no longer yourself. I remain in the void, and everything that once was is no more. There is nothing to discuss. Endless hours and days just slip away. Here I am, in the middle of my physical age, and the question has arisen once again. So, I dictate, my thoughts fragmented, my sentences half-formed, incoherent in a way that feels disconnected. I am disconnected from the conversation that surrounds me. I rarely think about ...
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To Love

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      To embrace my beloved, for so long, as tenderly as possible, is to be the luckiest person alive. (pic credit: Xích Diễm Cố Tích) Love, what an idea it is! lifetime after lifetime, humanity has marveled at its existence. The ability to love as the most beautiful aspect of our being, brings us closer to the truth about ourselves; of who we were, are and, will be.  We love, honestly, as honest as a person can be, in our own subjective way, with devotion bordering the height of the heavens and generosity as vast as the Buddha's heart. We can soar carefree and or endure drudgery when we earn the love for which we fight with all our being. Fighting, the good fight!  Love binds us all. In ways i.e. magical where I am, myself no more for "I" have thee in my mind, here in the most cherished memories in my heart, here within my very being, my dearest  even when I am all alone especially then, boxed within the silence of concrete chained to the wall li...
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A momentary reflection

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The end .  All beginnings start from there. There is no BS, no excuses, no nothing's.  With all the social anxiety enveloping the consciousness, we are never true to our self , to the ego to which we owe our entire puny existence, each breath, every moment spent to its eventual next. Thus, the end is not an option but a necessity. It is the forgiveness for all our grandiose mistakes we have realized but nobody cared. It is the boredom in the cacophony of human noise celebrating life and congratulating their momentary achievement to themselves.  It is logical, that applause.  Yet is it only me or what, it feels hollow, a truly brittle sham. Only for the good time, the celebration lasts unlike tragedy that is heavier than this body of yours and mine that contains the existence called life And that life needs to end End only ending is where a new beginning blossoms For it is death that gives meaning to life For it is darkness where light shines brightest In the polarity...
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About Love

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Strip away all the comforts of civilization and step away from all of its conformities. You will find me contemplating, both physically and mentally exhausted, confused in solitude: “ What is love?” “If there is a heart beating next to yours despite all the vagaries life weights you with, then that lightness of being, the feeling of glad vulnerability is perhaps the closest thing to true love” “To be known for all the right reasons despite being so wrong, is it love?” The world fades away in a blur and I am forgetful of things that are present. Yet, I remember things I should not have forgotten … you see love is the magnet to draw forgotten memories and a powerful catalyst of change in your life. It motivates us to be civilized, and find the middle ground, as it brings the thing called “should/could” into our lives, and we start to feel empathy for the less fortunate and be more forgiving. Being civilized means having the ability to survive and to be able to think for someone whom we ...
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So Long...

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Either way, there's never enough time to do all the things we want." Life is too short to avoid taking risks                          (- Zom 100: Bucket List of the Dead)                          Fear We can do more, be more. If we just dare, to do so… How many things did you dream of doing before the grand finale? A thousand, a hundred, or not even a ten ? Promises are broken , and wishes forgotten along with the memories of regret…  It is so easy, to let them go . And easier, to procrastinate!                                                                            ...
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Landscape of the Mind

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Blessed by introspection colored in anecdotes the memories coalesce  as I travel back in time... (PC:icanvas.com) The past  emerges as a temporal yet intensive replacement for the present. Recorded within my humble scribblings, they strive to impart justice to living memories alive in the ebb and flow of my naive heart. This flow spreads pervasively to the rest of my being, pulsating the identity I so carry. Rather than the teleological tendency of the rational mind, they convey those epiphanies colored in the spectrum of chaotic emotions witnessed by the light of my awareness. With subjective awareness of the myriad of imperfections never reaching the final conclusions, I am sure they are destined forever to be etched as vague musings. I realize this afresh with the solidarity of  me  that exists in the possibility of different dimensions. Nonetheless, I connect with those different versions of I , and we are never so sure that they shall remain as mere mu...
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