I write because I feel!!

A constant pressure is building up…not really able to figure out whether it’s from within or is it from the world outside that is busy taking stock of every inch that I move, who is trying to understand whom, whether it’s me, who wants to understand the world inside out or is it the world that’s teaching me to outsmart the rest?? Question marks lingers and a vacuum prevails….a vacuum of thoughts, a vacuum of emotions, a vacuum that knows nothing and yet grows deeper and deeper… Life, which evolves and becomes meaningful by several inspirations (books, people, songs, lyrics, stories, etc); brain, which is just so impressionable and heart, which is always out to react, all this learnt behaviour or not so learnt behaviour, proves a sham to others whenever quoted or referred to. What is mine? Nothing… not even these words…they are also part of this learnt behaviour, that would also be soon under the scrutiny of some sharp eyes or mind that might not be reading it in between the lines

Come on hold my hand, I wanna contact the living. Not sure I understand this role I have been given. I sit and talk to inner me and just laugh at my plans, My head speaks a language, I don’t understand…I think I just feel or may be I just want to feel that I think... Just when I was feeling that it’s time to put a break to what and how I feel about thousands things around and was trying hard not to feel and then think, I realised that we all feel and it’s just impossible to live life without feeling being alive. Keeping all logics aside, in which we try hard to fit ourselves best, I have decided now to come to terms with life and, thus, I feel that what is more important in life is about “how we feel” than any practical art applied to it, in which case why should we hide or not believe in what and how we feel? I feel about every thing around, may be it horrifies me many times and I get hurt almost every time I start feeling, but then I feel, think and believe that being human, it is j