I have an impudent grin, rather a smirk on my face at myself these days, and specially while writing this post. There is an abundance of better things to write or think about, and all I have been doing is draining my energy down the street mopping someone else's floor, while my own was getting dirtier. I should probably quite writing, atleast for sometime, as the wisdom that I preach for is not what I possess.
Whenever I am home, I just know how prudent I am, yet how idealistic, hopelessly romantic. There is an innate feeling of conflict that is hibernating within and I just unleash it whenever I am home. I feel the roots and my wing hurts with urge to fly. As things get more complicated, they seem to take better shape without my knowledge. I know that I shall fly and there is no looking back when I fly.
And I am flying soon....
Whenever I am home, I just know how prudent I am, yet how idealistic, hopelessly romantic. There is an innate feeling of conflict that is hibernating within and I just unleash it whenever I am home. I feel the roots and my wing hurts with urge to fly. As things get more complicated, they seem to take better shape without my knowledge. I know that I shall fly and there is no looking back when I fly.
And I am flying soon....
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