Enigma

Life is a strange ongoing process, although one may not know what is happening, one is still a part of the process. What is life though?  It seems like a beautiful path with the destination unknown and when the path seems beautiful one doesn't bother about the destination. At other times it seems like an unending journey to places unknown, too tiring to keep going. Moreover life seems to possess more questions rather than revealing the answers, like a continuous riddle. I feel like a nomad without the real travelling, a nomad who travels many a mental states to arrive at some stable peaceful juncture, and yet can only long to reside there forever, but cannot live there forever. I keep walking, in search of that which makes me me but I do not expect to find my answer. I cannot comprehend the antithetical life that I lead, paradoxes with each step. Although I acknowledge the greys, the gradations seem to multiply, often making it difficult for me to separate one from the other. Seeking the truth is always painful than accepting the lie. 

Breaking away from the ideologies of the society, from the pre-destined relationships and from the daunting past is not an option because one cannot break away from it completely - a bitter truth to be accepted. There is immense unclarity over the emotions I experience. Sometimes feeling love is accompanied by pain and I often get tired of being patient, tired of trying to keep peace and eventually I wish brevity to follow everything. Sometimes I feel like I've failed somewhere to get what I should be entitled to. Soon I start realizing that I'm build of such opposites and as if somewhere deep down these already fixed notions undermine me. I cannot identify myself - what is mine and what is adapted? Or for that matter where do I truly belong or what belongs to me? With one's developing sensibilities, one tends to undergo changes and evolve as an individual but aren't the preconceived ideologies as much a part responsible for the change? 

When I think of death, I feel the same mixture of emotions. Sometimes it seems inviting, as if putting an end to all the miseries and sometimes a very gory thought filled with unfulfilled desires and unhappiness because in life one is never satisfied and never completely happy. It seems like the more I run from ambiguities, the more they tend to follow me and when I accept certain truths, I am set up against fighting other realities where eventually I am made to envelope those bitter truths as well. It is as if God knows when to play his cards well, whom to throw into the burgeoning greys and when to weigh down ambivalence over them. Eventually an escape from the mundane into the quiet, from the real to the surreal is what tugs at my heart ever so often,and yet I ponder over it instead of plunging in deep as if it were my last card to be used wisely.