Quicksand!

" My tears are like the quiet drift
Of petals from some magic rose;
And all my grief flows from the rift
Of unremembered skies and snows.

I think, that if I touched the earth,
It would crumble;
It is so sad and beautiful,
So tremulously like a dream. "

- Dylan Thomas

When your mind is overcome by your heart, your thoughts become a shaky edifice. It shakes so bad that you reach a point where you want calamity to cut loose and consume your beliefs - ending everything. A sincere soul lays wait for its mortal end when it knows there could be a billion butterflies beautifying the scenes of the other life. A life where you would want to live with the best of your memories captured from your dead past. Immortality is only sweet, because you enter it through the gates of your death, walking over your own funeral pyre.

Getting sucked into that void, the quicksand of thoughts, where humane will fails and babels of imagination crumble - is painful. But one must destroy that pot of rotten old ideas that had defined one's being so far, breaking dogmas and set conventions, opening up to the newness that is life, a life free from the perils of mechanization. Because mechanization begets boredom that starves and murders love. 

So where do I rest my thoughts? Do I allow them to fall down and become broken pieces? Or do I metamorphose? There is confusion and trouble within. Then vaguely comes clarity after much delay. Then the smile. So - metamorphose - I choose to go with. Into a being that never stops to grow and be impressive. But straightforward in its simplicity and kindness. Not to give in to high-mindedness, yet to stand apart in humility. To rebel, to rage, to fight and to die. For the weak, the loved ones, the poor and the dejected. 

Why don't we go to the shore, get into the waters, stand still and allow the waves to roar over us and caress our thoughts? Why don't we just allow love and other beautiful things to rule our lives! Why. Don't. We.