#seasage writes

[seasage-phd]

Getting the thesis ready for submission.

It's a bittersweet emotion, veiled in anticipation for the future as I get ready to let her out into the world.

Hoping for the best. Praying to get that PhD degree and be PhDone!!!

[your-rose-highness]

On Warmth

A little exploration into the world of instant gratification, and you will find something rather striking.

The living in 'extremes'.

The world today thinks in binaries (unfortunately). It's either absolute ignorance or undiluted visionaries of the last stage. It's either too hot or too cold, am I right?

We live in between these polarities. Care to explore the route in between? Stop and watch the sunset, Sniff the fresh summer's morning, stand a while to pet the cat on the sidewalk, lift the hunched shoulders and watch those two strangers dramatically talk to each other.

Oh, to be able to smile at your neighbours and nod a hello, to share lunchboxes at recess with your pals, to bite into a ripe apple and hear the luxurious crunch.

No, I prefer to notice the carefully picked scent on your clothes and the appreciation in your voice in conversations.

I prefer to note the warmth of your palms in mine. The tiny knocks on my desk that remind me to drink water, all the gestures of warmth. And, no, it's not sparks flying, it's not hot, there's no 'heat'.

But the warmth, we so easily dismiss is read between the polarities and speaks in gigantic waves.

Find warmth, my dears. It is quite misplaced and ignored. No amount of ignorance and sparks can replace it. Rest assured, warmth cannot be spoken. It can only be felt.

[seasage-phd]

Qualms

Would they come for you if you left?

Would they pine, try their best to have you?

Would they move mountains to keep you in their life?

Would they want you... the way you want them?

[seasage-phd]

The artist and the world

What a life the artist leads.

To be able to immerse oneself in the intricate details of this tapestry, while it pricks the finger once a while.

While the rest of the world hustles towards the goalposts, I admire the artist's leisurely stance softly brushing the grass, the flowers and the weeds. For they stop to pepper them with their love.

How beautifully carved is the artist's mind. To absorb the dance of the trees, to understand love stirred into a warm bowl of soup, to yearn for the beloved only to be destroyed by reason.

I want to learn the ways of an artist and sit in their bubble while they ruminate. Be able to touch their thoughts and relish their pauses against the stream of the everflowing life.

[your-rose-highness]

Home front.

It's the searching of your eyes in confusion. It's also the scrunch between your brows of assurance. It's the unspoken light nod of reliance.

I'm here. It'll be okay.

And, once again... I'm home, dear reader.

[your-rose-highness]

On society's nincompoops

Unreasonable? Illogical? Unfathomable?

Living through days of criterion which places itself on the shoulders of everything apart from the actual requirement has forever been the time's buffoonery. It persists and will continue to do so.

Fight your own battles. But, trying to reason with clowns shouldn't be part of your everyday.

Giving up is the best option here. Give up. Don't have expectations. Live your life to the fullest. Stay glad and happy, my dear readers.

[seasage-phd]

you lose a part of you everytime you stretch yourself thin for others. Especially the others who do not deserve it. Once again, dear readers, I find myself at the dead end. The truth remains that if you care too soon, people will take it for granted.

you lose a part of you everytime you crave care from someone who does not. You a lose a part of you each time someone dissapoints you.

Is being ruthless the answer? probably.

Better ruthless than being too kind, dear reader. That shit will leave you in shambles.

[your-rose-highness]

In your embrace, there lies respite

Lying on the grass beds, you roll over to ask, "Do you love me?", his eyes shut, he whispers in affirmation. A wave of how much lingers in her afterthoughts. So much of forever is discussed in the universe. It pains to know the souls destroyed in its pursuit; Martyrs.

The shattering hearts are a deterring noise all around, one such yours, the mighty heart will shudder at its sight.

Rolling over the grass, he places his warm palm over your head, answering the echoes in your heart. "A lot. A lot more than you can imagine" And you slip into slumber in his embrace.