Like a form of art, Missing Someone and/or something is as abstract. For the past few weeks or probably month, I gave thought to this piece of mental art. A artpiece that is installed in oneself towards the very specific.

To put it in a simpler form, it's made up of emotions. Purely emotions of urge, yearn, and perharps attached with a tinge of sadness and hopes in it. Like an incoherent blend of the positive and negative emotions. But pondering over it made me take the stand of it being more than being a mixture of complex emotions. Precisely.. it's a mixture of emotions, all the more made it an abstract art to be explained. And an art because there's no fixed ways of how you feel, no fixed ways of expressing, no fixed way of doing it, no fixed mixture of emotions.. and nothing is very fixed.

A very simple question has been questioning myself for these time. "So why then do we miss only some people and not everyone that we came across or rather..why is the extent of missing someone different?" To date, I have no better answer other than because you feel more for one than the other. But how convincing is this? I often wonder if missing someone is solely a psychologicial hypnotisation; you miss someone because the inner self has been voicing the emotional attachment you have to one and through this constant effort..it ripples a missing effect.

Or could it be the possessing of one-thing and the sudden loss of it have brought about poor adaptation and hence missing?

I asked myself alot of simple sounding questions but hard-to-answer questions. Questions which yield open-ended answer; with no faithfully right answers.

Missing..expressed in different forms. We all have the freedom to expressing this art. And perharps like Art..each time you look at it...you understand it better or even in another perspective. Missing comes in some kind of a cycle too. When you think about it at different time...it peaks at different time and subsides with understanding and acceptance.

I dunnoe how else i can explain this piece of art...but i think it is. Its quite a weird thing i say.

It's made up of different colours.
It's made up of different shades.
It's made up of different images.
It's made up of different emotions.
It's made up of different..........................................

My eyes i'm screaming for a sight of you

10:59 PM

Labels: inner voices

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