What is it, in separation, that draws the heart closer to that which it has not? To want, and to have. To seek, and attain. The vacancy that exists, the adornment of emptiness, an inner instinct to fill that vacancy because…
Because, what? Just because it is possible? Is this instinct the primitive instinct built not of a force of heart, but of force of nature? That which we have, we do not want, we wish to progress, and to progress we seek the fulfillment of more.
It could not be just this. The heart, in separation, denies that any force but that which is truest to heart could be fuel to such yearning. That vacancy, however small, for the mere flicker of breath, immeasurable between the clicks that signify a second, but it is there, however infinitesimal it may have been, it spreads and grows and consumes all matter and mind, it glides from the shadows of subconscious, penetrates the farthest realms of consciousness and plunges into the vast depths of the unknown. Where it belongs; because is it after all only born of the unknown?
The unknown and unexplored. The further the attempt to untangle the beginning and the end, the more the entanglement becomes. To try to smoothen out the knots and loops, the bond intensifies, weakens, or breaks.
Why is there such a pull in separation? Separation from that which completes us, so utterly and thoroughly, and thus to be separated is to be apart from that which is already ourselves. We resist, we struggle, and we torment ourselves with the agony of losing a part of ourselves.
Perhaps that is why we seek when we had it not. When we have instinctively always felt that there was some salvation of the vacant heart that sought to surrender its artifacts at the altar of its prayer. We have built a home within for that which should belong, and waited. We have waited through storms and riptides, through the eyes of storms, and through the aftermath of them. The heart has waited even when we have given up on waiting. Because without, the heart ceases from purpose. To beat, yes, but to keep time to what?
Like a ship to its truest north, the zenith of our soul’s journey, a magnetic gravitation towards completion. A legend that is told infinitely, to last eternally.
Everytime I find myself in this cocoon of isolation, somehow kept disparate from what I am missing by a glass wall that frustrates me because, yes, I cannot attain that realm of fulfillment, I lose myself. A song hums behind scenes silently as I lash out with words, lost in thought, as if in reaching with the mind, with all my heart, I reach that destination. Despite the inability of my words to do them justice, in surrendering to the thoughts, I somehow do.
Special thanks, once again, to Nadaan Parinde from Rockstar.
