There are some words inside of me, folded in a corner, unknown to others. Keen observation and perception seeing through the gauge of confidence as I see you passing by through the waves of my memories. It isn’t easy, is it? To keep the words to yourself, the joys of emotions and success, the claustrophobic failures as the world looks at you with a glint of applause. Only to realise that they are unveiling you, one layer at a time. But no, this post isn’t about others, this post is about words. My words.
Through crests and trough I have learnt to spell a few, revealing and unfolding them if and when required, yet here I am stuttering to find the right tone. The words kept inside are a range of emotions composite of smile, glances, peace and happiness. For few it might be a turmoil but I wouldn’t want them to be classified as one, after all they are my precious. (Sméagol, eh!) I would still revel them, lay them on the bed of comfort, as fragile they are, unfold and unfurl them. Ink them in gold to survive the test of times but then you wouldn’t know because it isn’t gold that you are after.
I see the grey clouds above, thundering ever to pick me up, but unbeckoned to their might I am grounded. Pointing at them and speaking out aloud, in my mind, hides my introvert self draped with precarious layers of extroversion. As a scent reminds me of the thoughts again. Ah words, that’s what I am looking for. Maybe I’ll never see you again, maybe I will, when I re-visit the corridors of my dictionary. But isn’t life all about that, as Frank Sinatra puts it “this is life”.
There’s still a long journey ahead, a life to make of, plethora of beliefs to fort. But this wind of nostalgia smells of serenity. Blessed are those who have the words to describe or the emotions to express.
But hey, some words are better kept secret.