empty closed spaces

the room was chaoticly random. the unopened suitcase, he had just moved in some days back and he was still feeling exhausted from all the moving out of his old apartment work. the half empty lays , the glass of milk getting colder with time. he was not hungry anymore , maybe he was but there was no will in him to eat anything right now. he had a deadline for tomorrow, it just loomed over his head. his eyes half open yearned for that 12 hour uninterrupted sleep. random voices from outside did not make himself feel any better.
he was not exactly working, all the code did not make any sense to him now. there were just random alphabets. he knew what was happening ... it was one of those phases. try hard as he might there was no option but to ponder and screw his mind over it. these phases happened just out of the blue , when things seem perfectly normal and he felt perfectly fine happy and content with what he was working on , looking forward to the new things that will happen in his life. but his eyes felt more sleepy , he hardly felt awake today .....
he realized he needed closure. not closure of what is , but a closure of what was. he did no longer need anything more , but just an explanation of what did happen. an answer to WHY ! that will satisfy him. right now he could hear the why from inside his mind. there were only two perfectly good and right answers.
black or white , right or wrong , heads or tails , 0 or 1.
sometimes he decided yes the fault was not his .. then things would seem perfectly fine .but then again weeks later something would hound him saying maybe he was at fault. it felt really crazy, he felt like he could not rest. but then there was no way to know. if only someone could put his worries at ease.

and finally early bright mornings !

(to answer people who told me that i need to go away from walks in dark nights :P )

he was standing outside the door , perched in between the lush green fields. there was hardly any other civilization as far as his eyes could see. his house was on those ones straight from medieval times, a small house with a chimney and a porch with no wall bounding it. in his pyjamas he was looking at the mountains beyond and the sun slowly making its way to the top. he just got up and sipping water out of the bottle , quenching his dry throat. as the fluid went down his throat and the sun rays massaged his body he felt a warm glow from within almost inviting him to throw everything that he had and start running. to break away , to feel free ... free and run straight into the unknown. it gave the mind endless joy in anticipation of what lay ahead.
but such thoughts gave away to something more real as he stood ground at the door. leaning on the frame he looked into the distant skies wondering , wondering if he could be certain of anything at all in this world. some say god created , some say evolution created. but whatever anyone said was the result of experiences , accepted by people who could understand it. a thought from the matrix hit him right then and there,
"no one can see beyond the choice they cannot understand"
if people had made choices , who are they to questions other choices. a scientist cannot understand the choice of the priest and neither can the priest understand the choice of the scientist. to berate each other is foolish and stupid. sometimes life is too great , too difficult to make a choice ... sometimes life dishes out too much to make a judgment ... sometimes life screws one so hard that its difficult to have an opinion ... sometimes life is just so wonderful and beautiful that its difficult to stop being happy. but in everything one requires the humane qualities of tolerance and humility. the understanding and the acceptance of everyone as an equal faith irrespective of the person. sometimes all that requires in life is to just be , just be ... and he closed his eyes dropped the bottle to the floor and lifted himself out of this human trap that he got himself into. he just wanted to set everything in motion to eternity.

unanswered

he winced, he hated feeling bad about it !

why did he feel guilty every time he told the story ?

why did he feel that he was wrong .... but why oh why did he have to assume things to be right.

why just following what was said later proved to be wrong ?

why dont human beings just talk and communicate , why does everyone make it difficult ?