Thousand Words I'm Choking on

My problem with people who have departed my life, is that I’m left with thousands of words I’d like to say .. but I can’t. 

I’d like to tell my grandmother that I still love the mango juice because you insisted I try it, and I did only because I love you dearly. 

I’d like to tell my uncle; I’m extremely sorry I missed that dinner you invited me to .. I’d pay half my life to go back to that day so I can be there with you. 

I’d like to tell another dear person; I’m terribly sorry my pride clouded my judgment and didn’t come back to hug you tight. 

Thousands of words I’m chocking on .. and the only way to compensate is to show empathy and provide help and comfort to others to feel good about myself via satisfaction of redemption of overload of giving .. because that empty spot, or death, changes everything and I’m left with nothing but my original version of self; a human. A human with actual feelings .. how funny is that. 

I could go to the graveyard and say all I want .. but I won’t matter because they’re not there for me anymore .. and the living will see me weak and not strong enough to face this life because I’m forgetting about life and crying over the spilled milk, thus I won’t be there shedding tears, because again, life gets in the way. 

I’m a man who believes in second chances because we inherit traits as much as we inherit behaviors and fortunes and beliefs and many other things. In life, the test comes before the lesson. 

Only a man who knows the definite feedback of thing will value it’s course and look after it dearly not to mess it up again .. so yes, I believe in second chances. But, where would I purchase a day when I can see my people who departed my life. 

What does it mean to be tough, or rich, or carry a great family name .. or poor or nice or else if it’s deviating from the basic humane features. 

Life is too short to seek validation from people who don’t fit in the bias algorithm or your life, or those who are not sure they want you in theirs, or need others'  approval. 

P.s. some words are better left unsaid .. and some other words die once said. 

The Title

A book is a silent “intellectual” conversation between two minds. You don’t get to argue with the point being. 

People, and smarts ones too, tend to load their thoughts while seeming to be listening in a conversation, especially in an argument. 

Fantasy and adventure books, shows, and people escalate once they go on about a certain topic until it seems “over” at some point. 

Take a fantasy/adventure movie for an example. It’s starts simple with desalinization of the characters. As it goes on, it goes deeper, intellectually and intense within the depth of the main category. 

Writers in general would choose the title after their work is done, simply because the title is the face of the whole work .. and somehow it gets an overview of the piece. 

Think of it as a daydream of any ordinary person. They start with putting theirselves in the shoes of an event that caught them a feeling, and may repeat the scene after it’s over and edit it in their minds over and over .. and at some point they realize they’ve gone too far. Now the beautiful thing about the book, or the following seasons of a show is that the writers would want more success in attaching to their audience; by the time the tale of their work is near an end, they’ve done an extensive research on the topic in order to dig into depth to keep the fantasy alive and connected. 

That’s why people with potentials fascinate me. Smart people fascinate me. They offer me a tour into their beautiful heads, and they see my interest as an admiration and likes; thus the tour is paid. 

I used to believe that everyone is smart in their own way, now I’ve come to a conclusion that everyone is not stupid. 

I, yet, have not found anything in the human-human interactions better than the “getting to know them” .. because it’s too difficult and paying attention is hard but the outcome? Everyone teaches you at least one thing. 

It’s like “the chase” when a boy seems to be interested in a girl. The more she resists; the better. The chase is the rush, the adrenaline and the fun. 

It’s fun for the boy because he plays the game, and the girl gets the attention because she feels validated and thus, beautiful. In other words; it’s fun for the boy, not the girl. Boys want to play, girls want to settle and become the princess of her childhood’s daydreams. 

I may not understand what love really is; but I love the depth of fantasy books that go on and on <and how their research reveals things about the world that couldn’t be said easily without getting in trouble> , as much as I love a smart girl whom I get to know and is actually smart and beautiful. 

Oh, and I hate love.