In exordium, People try for their endeavors in life. Our venture for munificent sum seems ultimate destiny rather than living dire, and cupidity is auxiliary part of ramified endeavor. Even though society decry for such excoriated executions, the spurious, intrepid mind adumbrated by dark side always exert to act dexterously with agile movement.
The lenient human mind always flout for positive like hesitation, however, for sycophantic and libel work for one’s endeavor, one can varnish, feign with inveigle activity. Ultimately, one falls in conundrum befuddled with unraveling life, finally trying to vindicate oneself. Life is wobbling, vacillated, that sag eventually death with congeries of muddle issues, which are in fact, capricious aspect of life. The euphemisms like martyrs are just dangling and fortitude for ‘Sorry Fellows for other protruding fellows’. No doubt, their allegiance is deferential and reverent at individual level. Sometimes, in life, admonishment is perverted by the reality of life. There are times that make one to show obdurate, brazen for causes that are ineluctable in one’s way and one can’t stay reticent and beautiful aphorism doesn’t propitiate the affronted devastating condition.
If Nostradamus had really seen future, then, is it the written life? This obtrusive question always led me to dereliction in diurnal work. What if it is really a written? It can make one malinger. Everything is marooned inside a drama hall. What if this so called real life is an absolute hoax and prank?
One thing for sure, Life is a quagmire. I believe, one has to recuperate through the mental plane identifying the labyrinths that plunder our actual reality. To unwind imbroglio, one is not obligatory to religion and god. The truth itself is religion and god. Mind is bequeathed individually to segregate and extirpate the delusions for truth from delirium. Psychologists once brought up like ‘Stop finding faults’, well there was happiness among researched groups. Religions are quite pompous ensconce. There is perfection, it is for granted. So we are imperfectly perfect.
I am not an iconoclastic, but trying to instigate delving into new heresy with skeptic on derogatory religious notion or matters, just conceived that this life is forged, lurked and emaciate me understanding the truth. It is elicited from my figment resources. No more fastidious and squeamish in my heart about the reality now. An exodus should be there from dream and reality. Old versions have to be recanted scrutinizing stilted for suave legion. Individual prudence and judiciousness is essence rather than be scapegoat. Mind is dainty as well as leviathan that can divulge to unwind the spurious predicaments to consort life.
Exhuming reality for exculpation, pejorative remarks imbue the impropriety in search of truth.
Saturday, August 04, 2007