I felt a long train of thought chug through my mind,
taking the deep-rooted rails of my convictions places.
Did I feel like a fabric slipping under the needle of a
sewing machine? Or like a rag that no longer serves
to be used as a cleaning cloth, having gone so dirty?
Or did I feel so dilettante that a freshness spoke
throug my eyes? Am I a flame that warms but to leave
behind embers and char? Is all the mess created? Is all
the mayhem through a hidden hand? And yet, where
do we find a fixed place after all? In a dimension that we
probably worked our way through life, unawaresly seeking?
Where do we fit? I remember a priest named Zachary who
threw me out of the boys’ choir, because he simply
disliked me? So, was I a better fit for not being wanted.
Humility is like the chieftain who gives his tribe happiness.
How some people are naturally humble and sublime; and
some people think they can carve out destiny for themselves?! Do
those who make the laws wonder about those who are subject to
them? The risibility and paradox of existence is: How did God make
Himself subject to whosoever’s mandamus? Is there humour
after all, in the overlying tragedy! I can say whatever be the outcome,
you win if you never let down the chastity belt of your scruples
to the overwhelming evil! Is the agony of defeat only in the way you
perceive defeat? And is the triumph of victory in the way how you are
able to be generous with it? Should you be certain whom to forgive and whom not to!
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