Writing to me is liberating, a privilege (for it comes naturally to me). Moreover, an expression of my otherwise inarticulated, perplexing and very conveniently entangled emotions.
It is ironical, how writing takes me into a whole new world, frees and opens me up to myself and the world around me.
De plus, it gives me a bizarre sense of thrill, which, I believe, my life otherwise lacks; while helping me preserve certain fancies which metamorphosise my ‘survival’ into ‘life’.
Writing, to me, is felicity personified!
While lost deep in thought, I ask myself a mélange of myriad questions:
What does living mean? Who are we and what are we doing here?
And then I think, as though speaking aloud to myself,
Life is abstract, for some- to sum life in a nutshell is the mere action of breathing; to others, it might be happiness, fame, love or success.
But one thing, which I have come to know for sure over the years, is that you’ve got to be pumpin’ and jivin’ and kickin’ all the time.
So put your hair down, your hands- just throw ’em up and enjoy the ride while it lasts (a jiffy).
Looking back I want to seek euphoria, sea breeze, lovely smiles and sparkling eyes, young showers, superpowers, terrific hysterics and an aeon of the little things in life, that truly matter.
© achillesheelpoetry, 2020
This is just so deep and beautiful.
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I am glad you feel this way toward “Felicity’s Worth”. Thank you for your time🙃
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My pleasure!
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