another year bites the dust

Its that time of the year again, the time when the usual resolutions are to be made, the time when they roll the calender by one. Each year this time comes and then follows a long series of highs and lows, of laughs and sighs... and the new year simply seems to be a punctuation in this series of series. A punctuation mankind would like us to believe is a full stop(or rather an exclamation mark really, looking at the hype ) and then a fresh paragraph would begin. But is it really punctuation? I don't think so, in life's script there ain't any punctuations only an endless nothing, much like plotting a sinusoidal wave in vacuum. You can plot its one cycle or plot it to infinity, there will only be one pattern and endless repetition of that one pattern.
So stop celebrating new years, cause there ain't anything 'new' coming really, all you are doing is helping smart marketeers furtively pull out bills from your wallet, all in the name of this 'farcical new'!

tale about a tale

The last time I sat to write in the middle of the day was in the december of last year. Typically I always tend to do this when I am kind of flustered, not necessarily in a bad way though. Today, my heart seems to be shifting inside, one moment here the other there, happily chugging along, as if singing to a tune in its ears.
It is a good feeling, 'cause days like these for one, dont come to often do they?

Every emotion we experience seems to be a deja vu, events in life keep changing there faces but the feelings(which are a reaction to life's events)keep repeating. Aint then this life and each small thing that makes up this life actually just a circle, each time around the circle you see new things, but the underlying remains the same.
Life keeps coming in full circles in every aspect, together life is nothing but an endless ring of these circles, each at its own degree of completing its circle and in the process overlapping here and then there. In this complex labyrinth of rotating circles of all the spheres of ones life are we, lost somewhere trying to make sense of all that is coming in a moment and passing in a moment too. A moment passes and then its nowhere to be found again, all that is left behind is a tale.

Aint life itself a tale, we talk about experiences of past as if they are forever a part of our being, but somehow the only truth seems to be the effervescence of this life, a moment comes and goes and all that is left behind is a tale, nothing tangible. Nothing is a part of us, this life, my life, your life, everyones life is just a tale and progressively with each passing moment it will continue to be a tale.

The future is always only a second away from becoming a tale, and still we struggle, we plan, we strive for future, the present is going..going and ya becoming just a tale.
Oh how much i dream, i work, i plan ..when all this life is going to leave behind is a tale.