The world around you is in frenzy. Things are living. Things are dying. Things are being born. Things are on the move- forward and backward. Yes, you are moving too - heaving and sighing inside, containing the tumult in your tired little mind, flapping your wings in a last drawn effort.
Its just that you don’t seem to budge. You just don’t move, neither forward, nor backward, nor sideways for that matter. Death doesn’t choose to choose you, neither does life.
Things that are moving around gaze at you with awe and even a mild contempt. What are the rules by which creatures like you live? And why do you live at all, they wonder. They have to accept you now that you are here. They have to try to make sense out of you so that their world doesn’t crumble.
You are doing this too, aren't you? Trying to make sense of yourselves? And then finally, after much deliberation, accepting yourselves for who you are?
Ask yourselves my dear how long have you been trying to be a part of this world of moving things. How long have you shoved yourselves in and out from your place on the fringes of this world? How many times have you stumbled and lost, only to find yourselves back in these precincts?
I know what you are asking yourselves; where do you go from here? Do you flap your wings or not? And what happens to the storm in your mind?
These questions, my dear, are both funny and pathetic for you still don’t seem to know your destiny. There is nowhere to go my dear. No one but these fringes are willing to accept the likes of you. You can go around yourselves if you like; chart your own course in the sea. But always remember watch the world from without; never expect to be a part of it, never expect to move.
Find your peace my dear find it now before its too late. Know yourselves my dear; know before it’s too late.