letter to the boys playing in the street


i saw you guys there. on the street while i was so immersed in my thoughts. there was something i couldnt comprehend. i cant comprehend. something so not normal. something so kind of making the heart ache kind of weird. what was there making me so feel the intensity of that moment so deeply i might never now. why was i so willing to give up everything left to me. everything. for you guys.

you all didnt even notice me. and why would you even care to. i was no more than a passerby. i should have passed by. i was the background of your canvas. everything for that moment became nothing. you guys were magnified right before me. so what else i had in my control then to keep staring at you. and i did. shamelessly i did.

oh dear what a sight it was. but i still cannot define it properly. something i still envy. something i cant have. something i want to have. something so pure. something so tinting my life. something so appealing. something so exotic. something so distant. something so maximized. something untamed. something worth living. something short lived. it was something. with capital letters.

you see. what you had i cant even put in words. and i wont even try to do so. it will lose everything that made it something. that is another weakling we grown ups have. we cant describe things. specifically the intimate ones. we roam in something all our lives. we are seeking something. something that adds meaning to our life. something that makes it worth living. or worth something. worth yours something.

you might be laughing why would i want your toys. thats what you think you own. something to envy. right. and thats exactly my answer. obviously not your toys lol. but your life. your art of not giving shit about life. about the passerby. about the background of your canvases. im may sound brutal. but thats what life did to us. and we werent like this. we dont want to be like this. but theres no going back. the cyclic rhythms of time wont be reversing. either you go with its pace losing everything you have. or you stay back to mourn losing everything you have. regardless of what you do. you eventually lose everything you have.

but you know what really aching me deep down. the fear of you all ending up as passerby like us. grown ups. that you too might end up as a background to someone elses canvas. that you too might be weighing your success with you being content that too when you are aware the latter amounts to nothing. zero.

i know you wont be paying head to it. why would you. everything is perfect. that sight. you. your life. you have life in your hands. you can beat the hell out of it if you want. you can make life beg you for hitting you where it hurt. you can make life compensate on your terms. you can do it and i would beg you to keep doing it. to let life realize of its mistakes. of its callousness. of its unjust and unfair means of vengeance. of its frailties. of it being so small to take away what keeps us afloat. make it very clear. very very clear. that even it comes hunting down preying upon what you have. that you will never let it have who you are. never. that would then amount to something. something with capital letters.

may life remain easy on you.

a passerby



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