Artificial Maturity

Life is so silly, it has immature longings for things which are not even easy to handle for the mature beings.. i am one of them.. i can make or break what my immature longings ask from me..

They keep changing, like a toy with every age, my nails get bigger and hard with time, so does my mind and reflection of my feelings. Sometimes they frigid and get hyper, trying to scratch the iron doors and escape the precautionary environment. My dreams are like rain drops, they keep falling from great heights and whenever they hit the surface, they still split into more drops.

When I wear my shoes, I have to loose the laces in order to get my feet inside the adjustable arena of its mouth, provided that I like wearing it without socks at times..:o)..

Its the same with our conflicted mind, we need to free the laces of our ideas as much as we see them converting and adjusting in the environment of signified and honest thoughts.

My system of knowledge does not allow me to abase the individual identity of any being with babel instincts. Could this be my gratefulness to the society or the premature anatomy of my matured certainties? I am trying an approach towards the gearing attitude of the mystic genres, it seems so much compiled but complicated with the graduates of the unstably psychological grown up society.

But the truth lies in the fact that we love being slaves of our ideas. In fact we should storm ourselves to be its be slave, if we really want to rule the compulsive minds of the other exemplary brains.

I may be mistaken, but my mistakes are not forbidding the outcome of ideas inside my tiny multi-bouncing brain. They should be acceptable by the other smartly glorified and brilliant minds of my eminent surrounded thinking bodies.

Being immature still keeps you long for maturity and you never be short of ideas because you know they are not grown up yet.

The conclusion may be confusion, till it can embrace you to memorize the time when you actually started thinking that your immature longings now need identity.

We can be mature beings, but we are still not mature enough to define our race against immaturity.

browse the ability

curious, mental,
sounded whatever
still wen i moved,
very dim, for ever

its dull, to make an end,
and pause, stressed
unused to shine,
rusting the unburnished mess

piled, life on life..
as though, to life, breathe
off one to me,
im just little in all, beneath

time remains little too,
but hour is saved, subtle
more, something, from silence eternal
would double or shuffle

it were a vile,
to bringer, new things
to hoard myself,
store some yellow suns, as siblings