Thursday, February 24, 2011

i just can't sleep

but literature is not just the meaning of the symbol in it and how it reflects to us, but in appreciating literature we ask ourselves how we came up with the meaning. why we thought it to be that way and what are the process we underwent to decipher the symbol behind. why it took us this long or this short to understand deeply the subject of contemplation. and in the whole process, in the process alone, what did it made of us? how did we define the process and  how did the process define us?

***

searching for oneself is in truth not a search, but a recollection or an acquittance of the self you know you are yet was hidden, of the self you never knew you could be, or the self that is who you are from the beginning. and through literature we begin to acquaint or know ourselves more. not just ourselves but life and the people around us. we peep at  the windows of our recluse selves and find that there a lot of people outside who verily are interconnected with you consciously or not. therefore, literature is a beautiful window of the walls of yourself. and because it is the window, it includes the curtains that gradually filters the winds of the past and the present.

***

why am i frank? does it mean that i'm frank then i'm being rude on you? no, you don't understand. in the contrary i'm making things easier for you. if i'm going to kill the hope on you, it's like giving you another life. why prolong the torment if you will still perceive the same torment in the end?

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once in a while you chance to meet people from the inside universe of their own.