Curse of Reason

I struggle with metaphors as I see things as they were and as they were ought to be, crumbling, in a fashion, terrible to say the least. Somewhere in between the loathed reality and cherished goal, all of a sudden a fissure has turned up. Something challenging, in a daunting manner, the very premises of the conscious existence. It might have been propelled by some certain recent experiences but that just is the lit match to the box, which is, as it now seems a teeming pool of unintelligible matter. Often have I come across the warnings on sharp turns, which loosely translates into, "Focus deviated is when accidents happen".

Walking

If life is understood as a plane, we walk through it, making, or rather more correctly, discovering our share of this world, with all of it's composition. The walk through this alive plane is also in itself a training for the same. The more one has walked, more they have discovered and better they are at it.

Experiences at individual level are what constitute the same for the whole as well. Not only do they supply us with the knowledge on doing better but also with humor to get better of the indifference that keeps pushing in from all directions, and also at times with things quite humbling and overwhelming to keep us grounded. The walk, with every mile stone passed is also deposited as lessons to fall back upon and help muse out the problems waiting ahead.