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One of world's greatest mysteries is... yourself. Yes.
Try describing what you are, or who you are... chances are, you are wondering what to say. Same goes for me. I don't know where to begin, or where to end. Would have wanted to put a few smart, impressive lines here. But I am not. Even trying.
Always wanted to write. Whether I am doing any good...ah, that's subjective, isn't it? I write because I want to. Not because of anything else. While writing, I touch base with me. A certain part of me that I cannot easily open to all and sundry. A certain part of me that is not understood by all. But with the aid of words, I try. And it becomes easier to express.
I could say that probably I am a Janus of sorts (yes, there's a 'J' at the beginning of the word; now don't get any funny thoughts!) I look back at the past, I look ahead at the future. And I look inside too. All at the same time, sometimes. And it can get quite confusing!
Life's like music, like dance, like art... you spend your entire while trying to learn and perfect it - only to realise that by the time you've gotten even closer to understanding the enormity of it, it's time to pack up. It has so much to offer; I wonder whether I am missing most of it - days, moments going by even before I realise what treasure was hidden in it.
But, I do pick some fallen leaves from the path of my life. I store it away, among the pages of the book of my story. And on days, as I flip through my book, I chance upon those leaves saved from the past. And some leave a smile on my face; some a tear in my eye.
Ah. That's it for now.
If you have the time, the inclination, both or either... you are welcome to go through some of my thoughts here.