Nojoto: Largest Storytelling Platform

I have many new notebooks, all of them are blank.

I have many new notebooks, all of them are blank.
Some old ones I found on a shelf, few of them too, are blank.
I like the smell of empty sheets.
It smells something familiar. Does it smell like oxygen? 

Silly oxygen is an odourless gas!!

©nocturnal_muse_ There is a crowd of thoughts to walk with. There is this place called "mind" where we are forced to dwell in. The constant commotion is my room partner there, with stress being our mirror. I and my roommate at times have silence for our dinner. We both have started loving it more with each bite, or that's what we feel it tastes like. It's been easier to digest, but then, we both have felt empty in our stomachs. Silence doesn't seem enough. 

Outside mind, there is a whole milieu for which this mind is a vagrant. In this world outside the mind, so many people we meet, travellers we call as friends. Some places we stay as tenants and yet find our solace. A few hearts where our abode resides, assuage the agonies of the crawl by providing shelter to us and our vagrant mind. 
So many different corners to stay, so many domiciles to return at.
 Still, there is this emptiness lingering on every road I have traversed, which draws me towards it. Just like silence. I stare at it under a streetlight. Focussing on its blurry edges, trying to breathe, in its stillness. It smells like oxygen. 

I wonder at times. How strange we beings are. Beings we have named as humans.
Amidst the crowd of thoughts and people, the homes and corners, so many to talk to, so many to hear. Still, at 2.09am, feel stranded on that empty pavement with only silence to adhere
I have many new notebooks, all of them are blank.
Some old ones I found on a shelf, few of them too, are blank.
I like the smell of empty sheets.
It smells something familiar. Does it smell like oxygen? 

Silly oxygen is an odourless gas!!

©nocturnal_muse_ There is a crowd of thoughts to walk with. There is this place called "mind" where we are forced to dwell in. The constant commotion is my room partner there, with stress being our mirror. I and my roommate at times have silence for our dinner. We both have started loving it more with each bite, or that's what we feel it tastes like. It's been easier to digest, but then, we both have felt empty in our stomachs. Silence doesn't seem enough. 

Outside mind, there is a whole milieu for which this mind is a vagrant. In this world outside the mind, so many people we meet, travellers we call as friends. Some places we stay as tenants and yet find our solace. A few hearts where our abode resides, assuage the agonies of the crawl by providing shelter to us and our vagrant mind. 
So many different corners to stay, so many domiciles to return at.
 Still, there is this emptiness lingering on every road I have traversed, which draws me towards it. Just like silence. I stare at it under a streetlight. Focussing on its blurry edges, trying to breathe, in its stillness. It smells like oxygen. 

I wonder at times. How strange we beings are. Beings we have named as humans.
Amidst the crowd of thoughts and people, the homes and corners, so many to talk to, so many to hear. Still, at 2.09am, feel stranded on that empty pavement with only silence to adhere

There is a crowd of thoughts to walk with. There is this place called "mind" where we are forced to dwell in. The constant commotion is my room partner there, with stress being our mirror. I and my roommate at times have silence for our dinner. We both have started loving it more with each bite, or that's what we feel it tastes like. It's been easier to digest, but then, we both have felt empty in our stomachs. Silence doesn't seem enough. Outside mind, there is a whole milieu for which this mind is a vagrant. In this world outside the mind, so many people we meet, travellers we call as friends. Some places we stay as tenants and yet find our solace. A few hearts where our abode resides, assuage the agonies of the crawl by providing shelter to us and our vagrant mind. So many different corners to stay, so many domiciles to return at. Still, there is this emptiness lingering on every road I have traversed, which draws me towards it. Just like silence. I stare at it under a streetlight. Focussing on its blurry edges, trying to breathe, in its stillness. It smells like oxygen. I wonder at times. How strange we beings are. Beings we have named as humans. Amidst the crowd of thoughts and people, the homes and corners, so many to talk to, so many to hear. Still, at 2.09am, feel stranded on that empty pavement with only silence to adhere