Life and Stories.

A thought provoking post, and relatable to so many, including myself.

The Life and Lies of a Dusty Poet

The realization that every random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own, populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness, an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an ant hill sprawling deep underground with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you’ll know existed, in which you might appear only once as an extra sipping coffee in the background, as a blur of passing traffic on the highway, or as a lighted window at dusk.

Life is full of stories, some are worth telling, some are worth reminiscing and smiling foolishly to yourself while some are worth to be closed and locked in a chest, treasured or despised, and the key destroyed forever. But still don’t you think, its always these stories that make it worth breathing every time?

A monotonous life becomes repugnant after a point of time…

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