It is quite strange.
It is quite strange how life has to entangle itself in the darkest of shadows, amidst all that is despised, loved and drowned, how we have to loose freedom to understand our very nature. In freedom we are free but under repression we indispensably rearrange all that exists in our world, in its broken pieces we see the hint of light shimmering of the edge of that shattered phase. We hold on to that like our very last breath, in peace and repent.
It is quite strange.
I believed that independence leads to birth of humanity, a birth of possibilities. But no. It is the shackles that are bound to our un-evolved feet that fills our relentless brains with unimaginable dreams, reprising hopes and bickering strengths.
So, I guess when we think we have lost all control, then we really have it.
It is quite strange. Isn’t it?
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