Right here, right now!

Amidst the weary days that we encounter, those are a challenge that involve affirmation. For each day is a race, a long one I must say, just to strike a balance with the foe of emotions, ‘acceptance’.  

Tough it is, a task indeed.  Trust though, that the foe would be the best of mates once befriended.

How problematic is it, to just accept? It is the simplest at our hands, while destiny plays its card. Yet, the one that is most resisted to attain.

Adoption, the rival indeed. Irony smirks for the struggle is real. Talking about it, acceptance should ideally be flawless, isn’t it? For when we come across something that we have no control over, fighting against it becomes our motive. But sometimes, wouldn’t it be easier to just sit back and just be?

Acceptance here, is everything. It could be accepting ourselves, our emotions, others, accepting varied personalities, mood swings or just accepting that the place we are in right now mentally and physically, is where we are best suited to be.

But would hurting change anything? Would it change the situation we are in? As simple as this is to say and toughest to abide, it's no more about consolations.

It's just about knowing that there would be good coming. The wait is truly worth it.  

Never lose your now, looking for the perfect place. For just acceptance of what you have right now would probably turn out to be the happy place that you have been searching for!

Trust me, they say!

Trust. A strong word indeed! How often do we lose ourselves to this vicious encumbrance? Such a tremble affair it is, once broken, hard to bind, hard to fix. If only few emotions had the power to be controlled, if only the obvious sense organs were not always relied upon. But what about the heart? Sadness to the lack of filters to what it credits.

A slow poison sometimes, a foe for sure. For the word stays true to its originality, an angel in despair it seems, but could be a demon in eventualities.

Sealed are those eyes to accept the real, once broken, the tarnished pieces try hard to be bound. Never, never does it find its way back, for every edge of the broken piece is a sword that pierces sharp. Every tear those pillows bear are silences that are best kept secrets.

A broken heart is the best pain, an oxymoron indeed, for the heart that bears this shatter could endure any distress.

The irony is amusingly undeniable. For the strength that it births is tremendous.

With this would come a slender ray of sparkling sunshine, a glimmer that would tickle every nerve of your being. For once the fragments mold into a new shape, the world would become a better place.

Novice, the heart would beat again, looking for better, fighting its past into a most gorgeous new world. 

Finally, trust would become more of a clear phenomenon.