After by being in the midst of myriad melancholies and all of a sudden turning around and finding something that gives us happy is all about some sudden surge of excitement. That sudden appositeness is all about our genuine evocative efforts after our heart and we have then there is a real reason for a little celebration in our own ways, in some people's case, especially like my kind its weblication, especially on some public walls of interest and I do that every now and then. When such things come under scrutiny, with all esoteric ways, I often ask to myself, Is it a phobia or something? a distilled version of brags or something ?. May be its because how else there a loner going to get when there is no one else to share their stories with. So I do such, more or less.
Not in an explicit way in which it could go wrong in the receptors' minds. They might judge and if its superfluous no wonder our castles will fall apart and I'm certain. Its never ever a calumny on my private priorities, it may sound likewise but let me say its not, in zillion times.
Sometimes I feel like whether my disillusioned chantings go on for some vilified stuffs on me or not. Because to some extend I cannot count on my own thoughts that I have been considered faultless in any point moreover I shouldn't do that. My thoughts are just a strangled piece of some psychedelic dilemmas. Its a truth in my lonesome parameters but could be a different one in others'. But I do such, scribbling my madness, who cares. But the thing is that, When I read my stuffs multiple times after that I can feel that strangeness, that oddity that packed during some point of my elevated sensitive moods but since I can relate my soul to it whenever I ran into it I said okay with it. Okay, I do care and I feel proud of my selfless thoughts. Its a damn reflection of my liveliness, of my decayed posture. But I admit my height no matter who gives any craps.