My shadows of hope

I know many people. I look at the swarming multitudes that make up my crazy world everyday. There are the old faces, the ones I know and recognize, as well as associate with a name. But they are overwhelmed by the new. Everyday, every hour, I see and meet someone new. Its almost like shopping, just that the price is never right. Don’t mistake me for a cynic, because I am actually a hopeless romantic at heart. I love beauty, and all those things that I associate with beauty. And I love those faces I see everyday too. But surely, those faces are not beautiful. No, the faces I see everyday are nice, and in some cases, very nice. But none of the faces I see are beautiful. I see beauty in nature, in love and in faith. But the same beauty does not exist in the faces I see. Why is it so? I fall for any girl pretty enough to interest me. I start to care for any girl who cares for me. But somewhere along the line, these faces lose their charm. They become dull and less attractive to me. Wh...

Will my insomnia never let me sleep? Is fitful slumber my only dream? Will I never get to rest, and put my pillow to the test? The net and nicotine, friends strong. Together keep me up all night long. Its not like comfort or the lack thereof, keeps me from sleeping my tiredness off. My pillow beckons and my bed is nice, but my friends on Orkut say No dice. Talk to us afore you sleep, who knows next when we shall meet. A menage-a-trois my sleep requires, with pillow and bed, it aspires. But no sleep comes to my laden eyes, a ciggarette an hour should suffice. The voices keep me awake all night, on every online forum they fight. The sandman tried to make me sleep, now even he is a gaming freak. The lesser control I have over sleep, the better my scores on CS seem to feel. No comfort for my sleep filled eyes, a tot of Oldmonk should suffice. One more frag, a movie more, a never ending desire to delve even more. Into the shadowy realms of the net, the deeper I go, the better it gets. Now y...

Why can't I forget the past? It was so long ago. Its all water under the bridge, then why I let go? Its fleeting like the clouds, can't catch it anymore. Its gone and wont come back. Then why can't I let go? Its never ever coming back, its the truth, that I know. Its gone with the wind, then why can't I let go? It wraps around me like the mist. The ghosts of memories long before. Its finer than a grain of sand, and I still can't let go. It suffocates me in my mind, killing what I have now. Its all lies, the truth I know, and I still can't let go.

To what end hope? We try so hard to be happy, to keep us and all around us happy. And yet, inexplicably, everything that can go wrong, does. We try to go on, like shriveled blossoms after the winter sets in, but don’t we all know the truth? People say, that’s why one must live in the moment, and not dwell upon the future. But it is planning for the future and carefully selecting what steps to take that define our existence. Who is the fool here, the mendicant or the yuppie? Both are extremes, I agree, but both exist within us. We desire both ends, to be free of yearning and desire as well as to achieve the luxuries of life. Hope for both ends is what defines our eternal struggle. This is no tussle of brawn or brain; this is something much more cerebral than a chess game. This is primal and unrestrained, and yet we spend most of our lives unaware of it. The corrupt desires the freedom from exposure and the honest desires the freedom from such amoral lines of thought. And we can justify ...