I Feel Like The Odd Door

I think of rhymes and feel ensnared. I'm not good at moulding sentences to rhythm. My similes are shaky and alliterations alienated. There is little peeping range behind the words, all bare in sight, is as is seen. But limitation is stolid living, one that mostly reeks of regret. I want to measure my words to assure exact aesthetic meaning and substance. I tend to seek comparison like a sister, aching affected approval all the time.

I don't want to. I want to discover myself, in my words, in my spaces, in existence, in trial and error, in excess and less.

Limitation is a stagnant stench I cannot stand. So I intend never to let definition corrupt me. I am ever changing, ever growing, ever being, ever living. I continue, more and more, new and new. I don't know the specifics of this, but I am pin posting it here to make sure I read it as much as I feel it. Aching for comparison in my lowest moments, grafting my sense of self from stifled, decorated opinions of some.

Here I am, trying to be someone else, someone I don't know, someone who I pretend to be with pretentious words and spaces, trying to impress, trying to forget, trying to belong, trying to shine, trying to balance, trying to hope and find who I am and what I want. Here I am, trying to find me in reflections in other people, trying to figure out if they can do things better? Figure out where to belong? Figure out who to be, through confusions and self inflicted seclusion. Wondering, wondering, wondering, if, if, if,

I could ever be enough, tough, rough,

And fight this.

Sirf ik hi baat kehne chalte hain aur baatein bohot ho jaati hain
Agle muqaam ka zikr kar k bas inn dinn rahein kap-kapaati hain
Kalakaari karne pe insaaniyat krantikaari kehlati hain
Kuch junoon ki baatein kahin umeed, toh kahin darr sehlaati hain

Inn dino khayal chalti nadi mein kamal jaise hain
Kuch zaahir toh kuch ankahe silsilay se hain
Hatt k karein kuch toh duniya uniform thama-ti hai
Bas, zindagi aise hi katt jaati hai