The unbidden heaven -

A deep slumber holds no substitute, it's like a passing moment, you can't replace it. It doesn't matter how hard you try, where ever you head, the journey embraces an end of pure vanity. So, I suggest you save yourself the effort and time and just trust me with what I said. Or you can give it a try, prove me otherwise and I shall plant a kiss on your forehead.

I was lost in a moment, a moment of an endearing kip when the sweet tweets along with the heavenly plops created by the unintentional dives lured an exit from the moment. I was back, I thought I was. My blurry gaze dangled in an attempt to keep up with the swings, tranced by the gentle breeze. I adored the beauty of the see-through swings, covered with the comely petals for a while but as much as I wanted to seize the moment the senses cried for a switch and so it happened. The trip from eyes to the ear-drums was hardly noticed and yet the senses claim boredom and fatigue. The unwanted switch dragged me into hearing the giant trees rustle and bow in an embrace. An embrace I had yet to figure out for it happened so fast I could only notice the senses whine so, I got up and my legs felt light , and I made the switch to the vision for I wanted to make the senses suffer. I was confused and I rushed towards the green little hillock that stared right into my eyes. There's no simile to explain the flight, did I fly, was I pushed, I'd never know. Sadly, the senses agreed on switching again and  I felt a delicate touch on my nape, I turned in awe to put into place the new puzzle created by the unknown but I needed the switch. My senses were planning on making me suffer this time and so, my vision went black, I couldn't see. I felt a dagger digging deep in my head, and I switched ends to the beginnings and fell back. An exquisite fall to the merry land of dreams..

I rubbed my eyes, and I saw the ps3 yawning right in front of my face. I could hear myself talk and I could see too. I wasn't cuffed to a single sense anymore and I didn't have to fight for my right to have them all at once. It felt like all the senses had taken a lesson, it was pleasing to see them united. The unbidden heaven, and all it's offerings require control beyond the blend of a Human and Satan. You've to chain the latter to be able to unlock the unity in a heaven promised.

And I've promised my body a few hours of genuine rest. Good day to you all

Memories -

"Pleasure is the flower that passes; remembrance, the lasting perfume." I'd never say that, that's Boufflers trying to impress with a lie. 

Remembrance of a pleasure is a micro second of a curved lip or what we call a smile and then the switch to melancholy in countless journeys of the sand in an hourglass. That's the divine balance we all curse. No one wants to do justice in present or future, when the seeker is a character with an innocent look to his wet eyes, demarcations of wisdom on his wrinkled forehead, a sigh for justice cuffed and trembling in between its dry lips, and a coat of a shabby dress covering his disguise to life. The character is pain, divided and tore apart by perceptions. 

The Creator then created the past, the 'Memories'. He created them to balance happiness and pain, to make happiness give way for pain to revenge the cruel acts of a human it's been a victim to. We're tied to the troubling ropes of memories, we fly high with our eyes shut, we forget the very ground we soar from, we're dreamers. Hence the alarming pulls by memories to haunt us, to dig deep and create the hollow in between, to make us realize the frail creatures we are, to help us know the limits to our potentials, to cease the moments of fragile promises being broken time and time again...

The fall ends, we mourn, we cry. The ego bends to dry our eye.. And the winds of consciousness take over, and we surge up high to our fall, a faster rise of a slower goer..

Blurred and breached, from the buried chronicle, I stand again
Floating with the ticking yore, trying to alter links in my hapless chain

Locked up inside the fortress of my wrenching past, that once stood tall
Rustles of gaping walls, peaching my misery just when they're about to fall

Hanging by the threads of my foggy intellect, I salvage my unshed-tears
The un-felt throb lingers in the unsung lyrics but subsides in mute-fears

Unveil `spring` for the last leaf on my heart is about to hug and embrace descent
My eruptive madness is about to induce an emotional suicide, my `fall` has felt ascent

Permit the frigid breeze to kiss my cheek
Let the unversed driblet supplant the enlightened creek
Let the goosy days, chase away the wisest plays
Let my euphoric dead memories take over the living me, in enchanting ways

Being...

It takes a big leap, probably an impossible one to assign permanent value to what lies around us. The bemused brain and all the trickery the world has to offer alters our value systems in multiple ways. It's purely unintentional and beyond one's control, but there's a way to control the levels. And it isn't casting a spell on the penetrating thoughts from a psyche or the wave of a magic wand disturbing the harmony of billions of hapless molecules that float in the air harmless. It is the mere thought of realizing the beauty and horrors of being.

Being is the Divine art of painting the senses and their connection with the author to make sense of it, and then the soul takes over to weigh the sense and to tug energies beyond visuals and embody them all in a physical structure. The daily routine practiced by us all isn't being, it's mere existence and a struggle to exist. Being lies manifold above the practice of breathing, it's the stream that splashes every particle that comes in it's way wet. Sees on the far side of life and it's offerings, and let's the hidden secret unveil it's self. For when you have the vision, the secret is no more a secret, you don't follow the path, the path follows the trails of your footsteps, shunning the destruction induced by unintentional manipulation.

The idea of being, being the secret to fence indirect manipulation lies untouched and uncared for. It is probably the peril that drives humanity towards the charm of the basic needs, the appeal that gives his stomach a task to perform , his genitals a reason to live for, and his lysosomes a motivation for the suicide. The human has buried himself under this cover of necessity ever since his creation. But in almost every era, there was a clan that succeeded in unfolding certain levels of being and they were all mocked at and labeled as insane by the herd. That was because what wisdom sees is just a notion of imbecility to the normal kind. The reason being the intense strength of the uncovering, it wants to modify and deepen the entire value system a human has been channeling within it's head ever since his nascence. The change is a horror and ignorance is peace.

With all that said, I would leave you in peace but would you?