This is a quest.

I always wonder about why people say that the time after 1 am is the hardest one. And I wonder why people always make confessions during that time. And I always wonder about why people get sad and nostalgic during these hours. I always think about why would you think about a person at these hours when you are totally free, why not when you are totally busy and amidst this busyness of this world? It would just simply imply that whatever you had with whomever the person, it was during leisure and alone time. That would just imply that whatever you had, love, lust, friendship, relationship or I don't want to put a label on it, was weak. The bond you had was weak. Missing somebody at leisure hours is something anybody can do, like literally anybody. Remembering somebody, wanting somebody, desiring something in your leisure time, what's the bravery in that? What's the speciality in that? Why would it make that person happy or at all? There is nothing so outstanding in it. Why w

Our lives are like an empty bottle. Have you ever seen the motion of an empty bottle after you slightly interrupt it's motion at rest? It keeps tilting to right and left after you disturb it marginally. It keeps doing that for some minutes before it gets back to rest and stability. That's our life. Somebody comes in, out of the blue we never expected, we never heard of and disturbs our rest. Somebody comes and owns us. Most of them somebodies don't stay. They leave and then they interrupt the motion, life is startled and starts tilting here and there. There's no stability. It takes a lot of time to get it back to rest and happiness. It is like the basic rule of life. That person changes you forever, changes the way you think, the way you progress and the way you act. The way you make decisions. It all depends on that person. 

You sit there in discomfort, anguish and misery while I wait for you in agony, eagerness and passion. You are so beautiful. I often used to compliment you through metaphors, through comparison with beautiful things, through songs and their lyrics which almost were perfectly applicable to make you almost feel it but it was never enough, was it? I hav often tried to compliment you in different ways, possibly the most beautiful roads I knew off, the most natural scenes I had ever came across but I never did justice to your beauty. You just can not be complimented with any other thing. You complement me. If the grace, allure, delicacy and elegance was only on the outside, I might have done a pretty good job but unfortunately I never saw the faces until yours hit me right in the deepest subsidiary of my heart and I saw right through you. You were crystal clear, like a glass and people walked right over you, under their feet using you like you never deserved to be. You are just.... You. The