Does life always give you second chances? Chances that flood your senses, beyond logic and everything else? And do we actually have a shot at those second chances?
Sitting on my bed with soft hum of the music in the backdrop, chai on the side, twitter in one tab and news in another, this feels home. Is it true then after all? Can we redeem ourselves? From desperate writer’s blocks, emotional upheavals and dejected times to rekindle what heart suddenly feels was lost forever. Yourself.
Last few months have been something else. Like they were borrowed time on some body else’s parole. And the past few weeks have sniffed out the final bits of the sanity left. Is it true after all then? Does Alice always have to swim in her own pool of tears to reach wonderland? And did anyone ask the good ol’ Alice if she even wanted wonderland?
But this was never Alice’s call, was it? She was a victim of chance, fate, destiny or power of a higher nature. Whether she really did have her heart set on wonderland, no one could ever know. But she fell through.
Life is like this wonderland. We presume we know it all. We understand we can control it. But pop comes a hole and a rabbit and off we go on a different ride.
Tonight I ask, is wonderland truly a drop in the pool? Can no good come off well thought through actions? Or perhaps chaos has its ways to find clarity and clarity its ways to chaos?