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The Joy of my Days




Sad brazen labels define my vices. An encoded destiny together with ideals and laws I was born into define my existence. Boxed between galaxies and rooted in a frenzied world that never rests, it’s hard to decode each moment.

Everything however seems perfect. Life’s intellect weaves her yarn around us, enthralling us into a euphoric awe. Everything is perfect though we can’t understand it. The nature of man, his unabashed love, hatred, greed, deceitfulness, kindness, honesty and loyalty. The shape of a flower and the natural landscapes with tall eerie trees that appear to withhold knowledge acquired with age are all perfect. The song of a bird at mid-day and its lilting melody, the echo of a hooting owl in a clammy cave, the garbled song of a drunk old man and taxi driver singsong the destination his taxi all keep us enthralled. The mysterious joys of each day make up for my oblivion and often times unkind realities. 

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