Heaven? No. Hell? Yes.

                                    Heaven? No. Hell? Yes.

Have you ever felt a huge lump in your throat?

No one around you even knows that you are dying out of suffocation?

Wait, actually, no one cares.

You know that you have to enjoy your own self, you don’t seem to care about anyone, no one. Because there are people for you.

But, basically, the truth is,

Tears unwelcomed but they unlock their floodgates, leisure of tear escapes, and you lay supine, looking at the roof, your sheets strangle through your thoughts, but here, think it’s the stars you are admiring.

You are lying with the divine smell of rain hitting your nostrils, you could call that, “Petrichor”, but immediately you would become some sane human.

 “Be Aware!” You are living with dangerous species, and we call them,

“Humans!”

Apparently, there’s no rain hitting your windows here, So, you imagine.

Imagination is the only thing people aren’t going to judge you for.

So, go back to living fantasy.

You don’t have a wand, but you have another magical weapon, and let me introduce to you, this, anonymously people ruling weapon,

“Words.”

With words, you turn the cheapest thing that would strike their minds into the most beautiful thing that they would ever think of.

So, continue imagining,

Your words are soothing. They can cure even the hard wounded hearts.

Now, add on to that happy life of yours on the roof, staring at the stars, friends of yours. There’s nothing you worry about. And even if there is, you turn those into numbers.

You are rehearsed. You know the next moment of your life, you waive your own life. Your science textbooks are all covered. You don’t have to stand up on the bench,

Here,

There is going to be a change. We call that reality.

*Actually, you can take running notes, it might help you survive this game, I mean, *stammers* Life.*

You don’t get to live your life. Life lives you. There are no feathers thrown on you, there are no red carpets for you.

But,

There’s this dry sandwich, the only thing waiting for you.

You are on a stage with people full of,

What do you call that?

Words.

 Unimaginably alluring words.

You get to have your earphones, call that your prized possession.

Tears are no longer flowing! They are all dried up. There’s nothing you would feel. Stringent.

Now, can I knock your door of reality?

Let’s go to daydreaming, reverie.

You don’t erase your own writings. You get to talk to him.

Together, you create love.

He looks into your eyes, it’s in the elevator, but, here, you gotta imagine,

Your hands are done, intimately intervened.

The salty water from the romantic sunrise on the beach leaves you both whirling in the pool of,

Love!

You know,

There’s love everywhere. Everywhere.

But you aren’t sure if it’s there in that small cubical elevator.

I now, make sure,

That,

Yes, there’s love everywhere. It doesn’t matter if you are miles away from him.

Yes, there’s no way you are allowed to stay in the roofs with your friends in the mid of a pitch black night.

Yes, tears do fall from your eyes, Oh no! You can never stop them.

Yes, there is no way people are going to throw red carpets for you.

But, you know what?

There’s this fine line between your imaginary skills and your brooding brain. 

                                   
                                  “Welcome To Living Originality.”