Raw Production

But when you don't know if the sounds of thunder are from your head or it is natures production. By now you must know how to do calculus, but do they know you will live your whole life eating cup noodles? So free, like your existence is itself a freedom .Like sex in the wild, grasses in the forest that is so green that it hurts your eyes, its dark green, it has mud in it. Look into your eyes, we are so common. When you cry your ego is washed like beeswax melting in the sun. When the nature cries, it rains, the earth produces beautiful smell ...its a earthly smell so fresh that you get nostalgic. My existence itself too is a random production of nature. I am not a girl nor a boy. I am made of random moments, words and memories more than i am made up of flesh, bones and blood. It feels like as years pass by i grow into a pile of words (unsaid and half said), of memories; memories of every first time, memory of eating something so sour that your eyes go weird, memory of the smell of noodles boiling in the water, memory of something that never happened but existed in my mind, memory of being beaten to the ground, the memory of eating something new for the first time, the smell of the earth and smelling it after rain,.. of pictures; Pictures in my mind and my gallery..well i have this picture in my mind with my parents the people who raised me, perhaps i am a product of two people who failed to live a life. It is as if i wasnt raised by them.. i grew up with them, .we aged together. Situations in life is just as like a mushroom in forest trees, you dont know which one is meant to be taken seriously.