Wait, it’s morning already.
Morning time. It’s mostly cold outside, you think. Sun is already warming it up for you. You would want to go out. But, you won’t. We are lazy, and it’s good for this morning.
This morning is bright and fine. Just like a white flower dozing off in the cold summer.
Washed away like you are hanging over your cozy bed, and the sheets are covering the cold world outside from you. White cotton sheets, smoothest pillows in the town and your head sinking into this deep void of nothing, making you make something out of it. Comfortably, I believe everyone has this urge to never get up from that bed and stay there resting, wondering peacefully how you have lived upto this moment.
Sadness, is sometimes inevitable while you do this. But hey, what difference is that sadness going to cause when I have already decided that nothing other than these pillows, this bed, this write and my sheets matter to me. When these are my only concern, it only becomes a fool’s game to even worry about being sad.
Thoughts come and go. They never stay, or atleast they should not. It is precisely one of the reasons I must have considered writing, like this. Now, after I write these thoughts down – this world somehow manages to keep them safe with itself. Someone I will never meet, might be reading this. And I will never know. But, do you think I know, now that I have mentioned it?
As sadness is not the only thing we all live, there are many paper planes you are flying in the wind while you sleep on this bed. These paper planes fly higher than the mountains of paradise. This is paradise. You’ll get lost everytime you put yourself on one of these planes. Remember, you have made these paper planes. So, there’s nothing wrong that’s going to happen while you take off. If it does, you will never be short of this kind of paper. We’ll make another one, and another one.
Morning is gone. It’s afternoon now. How are you?