Do Not Create A Bridge Between Two Cliffs, And Break It Later On, So No One Can Cross It. Someone Might

Do not create a bridge between two cliffs, and break it later on, so no one can cross it. Someone might be stuck in the middle of it, with no chance to save their life.

I wonder how different people will perceive me if they saw me through my eyes. Would it make more sense to be by my side? Or they would not have enough potential to sort me out like I have done? Will I be more transparent to them? Will they like me more than before? Or less than anytime? Will they see my dagger and sword, or my flowers and books? Will they hold on to, the sadistic me, or the poetic me?

Appreciative words can be so shallow when they describe about our appearances or intelligences. But god help me! The appeal held by the simple words when someone expresses they are glad you exist. Or when they call you kind. Or when they seek support in you. Or they calling you in times of needs. The explicit explanation of your character over your looks often hits home. In a good way.

I am baffled by the uncertainty of the next moment. It wouldn't be a big deal if right now I am sitting in a comfortable blanket, all warm and happy and the next moment, the world comes crashing down upon me. In the worst way possible.

I might be enjoying my most favourite song on the radio, and the next moment my heart may give up. In a literal way.

I might be thanking God, at this particular moment, of all I have, and the next moment I receive a call of a loved one gone.

I might be walking down the meadow breathing fresh air, and next moment my leg may slip, breaking me(and my leg) in the worst way possible.

I might be eating my favourite food right now, and the next moment, I may choke to death, when some particle constricts my trachea.

Such uncertainty in life and still I have such big plans, and continue to make some everyday. This uncertainty clouds my mind in the worst way possible. And probably this was the reason of Antonio's melancholy as well as mine.

It is pretty lucky of us to find people with whom we can confess all rights and wrongs of our heart, and not be scared about being judged or hated. To not worry if our confessions could change their perception of us. To be assured they'd read what our inner selves wrote at that time. To pour out everything and not curse ourselves for creating a mess.

It was a bitter pill to swallow,

but effective enough in deed.

They will take your all,

But won't return when you need.