Thoughts

There is a want, there is a wish. 

There is something to be more than what it is. 

The routine seems unavoidable but still it is the only path brightly lit. 

When the light outside goes out and the one from the bed lamp shines brightest, I hear doors from different worlds creak open. Inviting, intimidating. Explore, remember, avoid. It is all a choice. But what for? Bringing out fiction, putting thought and pouring out letters on the page where they would wiggle their ends looking at each other as if enjoying some inside joke on what is being filled in the paper. Waste of ink? Waste of paper? But thought doesn't take the blame. Its a busy traveler crossing the mind without forcing to be introduced. Just to be entertained maybe even without accepting it. It feels that everything has been seen what is to be seen and everything felt what is to be felt. Is it the shallow mind that narrows the awareness or is it the truth that changes its guise and appears at different places in different forms? Is it the plenitude that demands experience to be variegated? The rainbow ultimately is single entity with different opinions each representing only part of the totality. But the colors attract. No matter how far you go with one, it is just a shade, a part of the entirety. Each color evokes a different feeling, demands a different expression, a different opinion. But in the long run it seems tiresome when destination is reached where all color amalgamate showing there always was and is a single source. This puts the purpose of any creation in simple terms of 'desire for existence'. It desired to be and so it is. 

Rationality doesn't approve that explanation. It needs clear lines between the dots to complete the picture and appreciate the beauty. However dots can only be connected in hindsight which implies the flavor at each stop is not new and tainted with experience. Clouded with old feelings conjured by the memory. No wonder memories force the experience as they are created based on one. Ink falls on the paper and splashes forming multiple small blots that continue to do the same and all is left is a shaded paper. Once trapped, once recorded, the reach of the ink is restrained. But how else would it be propagated? The completeness is never reciprocated between two minds. When it is, then there are no two minds - they become one. Nevertheless, desire dwells in every mind. Every color tries to shine and depict a picture. Sometimes, it is not enough. Desire is not quenched and the craving finds a new partner and copulates to form endless chain of minions constantly working to reproduce. Saturation of mind halts this chain only from one source. The chain reaction was set in motion at the time of creation and only at the destination, where everything becomes one, it is halted. Alas, it would only be a calm before the storm. This is bound to start again to form an endless loop. The search for a meaning to all this is meaningless but at the same time it is discouraging to discard this exuberance.