Wakeless Haze
A sudden gust of conceptual tongue came to me as I realized that life is all in all an inward labyrinth of shifty metaphors. After all, life exist undoubtedly meaninglessness until it’s given a personal façade transforming ambiguity into certainty and simplifying the overwhelming scrutiny of life; molding it into tangibles. We commonly use rhetoric expressions to better recognize and accept life’s hazy values. Such influential phrases include, “Life is a journey” and another famous line from a Tom Hanks movie, “Life is like a box of chocolate.” It would seem that all words are utilized differently by each individual’s distinct personality. Furthermore, every manifested motto is interpreted per person in various ways which in effect bares boundless miscellaneous results. For instance, the word emptiness can be conveyed either being lonely or lost. However the metaphors are exploited, they grant a sign of relief. Expressions can also be imaged in the mind as op art to define and give support for a more discernible perception on life.
My mind often lost, act reflectively. Registered from hours of contemplative thoughts, in the end I suppose my life is like a Monet; impressions captured on a canvas reflecting spontaneous reactions to life encounters. However, I am rather flabbergasted by my insuppressible ever-shifting train of thought producing a collage of abstract images to imitate my metaphoric prose. Trying to focalize an abstract painting to be converted into a rational illustration seems a bit absurd. Presumably, the set beauty of the piece is ultimately ruined if it is to appear representational. I believe the same condition can be applied to literature. Expressive words are used nonetheless to paint the distinct shapes and true colors of the soul. The way the artistic rendering are judged is ultimately significant only to the artist, me. Soul, in terms, is the emotion and moral expressions- a sense of pride; by and large, the nonphysical aspects of an individual. In a more personal definement, the soul dictates an identity which enables a reason to support our purpose in life. Indefinitely, every person is born with an innate desire to fill the dubious null and void that specify existence, which inevitably, leads one to question who and why. As life is personified on a blank canvas, the artist will instinctively answer to the inquisition bringing upon color onto the empty veneer. For example, figuratively speaking, the foundation of the painting is the composition of the zealous brush strokes and vibrant colors. Colors are created from the heart and influenced by conscience, the "black and white" or factual reasoning. Hand in hand, the combination of "black and white" and colors, in support, creates shadings of light and dark entitling also a part of fabricated unique characteristics to define one's self. ………………………………………………………… ……………………… …… …… ………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….as it may seem, I really am………lost….. And continuing on straying from one train of thought to another…. Wheeeeeeeeee …. Rambles for the win...
With these thoughts in mind, upon my empty canvas I am able to develop a genuine individuality and strong sense of foundation. From my richly assembled theorem, I declare I am the vibrant impressions painted on a portrait of a deity. Others may disagree and consider me self-centered for holding head high on a pedestal thus leaving no room for improvements. But with much courtesy, I pay no heed to the peripheral criticisms toward my unrestrained point of view. Besides, my drive to be someone seeps out from the desire to improve my perception of what the perfect sense of character means. I believe if I am to set goals, I must possess the confidence to strive beyond the expectations. Hence reasonably without doubt, so I cite a self-portrayed humble illustration:
“I am a self-personified gift, a visage of a concrete angel. I am but a paragon of a virgin, all in all impressions of a sage to herself, an essence of many "imperfect imitations" ungratefully influenced by the vacuous truth nurtured by men and a woman as the subset to them. I am a humble dress of abstract grace. A self portrayed theory of self in her own mind, an intangible maxim which is the universal cognition that ever knots the infinite drive.”
This thoughtful verse allows me to come to term with a well-grounded ambition to be a more profound character. Why settle for less when I can look at the glass being not big enough rather than half empty or half full.
-“my mind is a thousand pages of muddy and disorganized prose”... I quit.