@EvanG 26 April 2021 more from that month

Journal: That one shot.

I don't know how to put this across but I shall give it a shot. We all are good at giving a shot to something that we feel that we might or might not be able to accomplish. That's how challenging writing is to me, that's how challenging almost everything is to me. So I give a shot to almost everything and strangely I end up doing well. Maybe, everything is all about giving that one shot. There is no glory in the finish. Because nothing ever gets finished. The moment it feels that it's about to get finished, it transmutes itself into something else. And we keep going on and on. We too become someone else. We are constantly becoming someone else. Nobody can point that out. Somebody will have to be something that's more than a change to figure that out. And even if someone does that? You can't do anything about it, except sitting and watching. That's the meaning of living! guess. We all want to say so much, do so much, that's why it's so hard for us to let something unfold right in front of us, right within us. I sit here, in my misery knowing the fact that this too will pass. But I have learned a great deal by not wishing anything from anything that rises or passes by. There's glory in the rise and the fall of things. How many of us are willing to see that. How many of us are daring to experience that. I guess none! But it's ok. Sometimes something makes us feel so beautiful that we forget everything. Everything feels tasteless and bland in front of that one thing. We keep chasing it. We keep recalling that feeling. We get angry when we don't get it any longer. We get so upset that we stop listening. We stop talking to ourselves. We lock ourselves in a dark room. Because we are upset. We are upset for the fact that something or someone made us feel so beautiful, that we can't figure out the whereabouts of that beauty. That beauty isn't found if we meet that person again or if we find that "something!" again. We look for it everywhere. Thinking of it makes me tired. That's how stubborn we are. It's a funny game. It's like someone made you do something and now you are angry because you can't do that on your own. I guess, the purpose of that brief visitation of that beauty is for us to figure out where it truly lies. It's so close that it's almost invisible. We can't see our eyes lashes, yet they are the closest to our eyes. That's how close we are to almost everything. But because we can't see it, we can't find it, we need people, instances, things and places to remind us, to pin point at us, reminding us that look it's right there. With you. Nobody can take it away from you. You always had it. It's ok if we don't remember, it's ok if we couldn't follow their pointing fingers. It's ok if we couldn't understand our way back to ourselves. Everything is meaningless if we don't find the eyes that add meaning to everything. We must find those eyes. Otherwise we will get lost in an ocean of blindness. We must open those eyes. Not only for us but for the entire ocean. The ocean awaits the opening of our eyes.