Between the Rose-Colored Glasses

They won’t exactly be sending out search parties for you, so no need to cast a longing gaze toward Gomorrah.
It’s quite an interesting connection between me and all these naysayers, almost like some cosmic joke.
Imagine a leaf petal doing a helicopter impression, whirling around in the wind and making a melodious entrance onto my skin, brushing past my clothes, and tickling my senses. I really ought to cut down on the overanalyzing of every little thing, overthinking even the simplest of thoughts.
On occasion, the descent of a solitary leaf serves as an emblematic reflection on life’s simplicity- “a leaf is just a leaf” I tell myself.
I possess an inclination to imbue every encountered element with a sense of romanticism- something beyond just normal acceptance.
This tendency, I suspect, emanates from my earnest desire to substantiate the significance of my existence, to give me reason, purpose- beyond the mere spectatorial role within someone else’s subconscious reverie.
My yearning extends further, reaching for a heightened emotional intensity, surpassing the present moment’s fleeting sentiments. This proclivity can be attributed to my perception that within the depths of my tears lies a reservoir of unwritten verses, and as they cascade from my cheek, they unfurl entire sagas upon unwitting onlookers.
My own faculties mirror the (what it seems like) perpetuity of a spinning dreidel, ceaselessly whirling through the vast expanse of thought. My goodness.
Like a melody resonating within the confines of a padded chamber, only then will the monotony of existence become stifling.
There are moments when I succumb to a slumber that seems to span epochs, and upon rousing, I encounter a reflection in the looking glass that scarcely resembles the person I once knew- a glimpse into the past of someone that I didn’t want to be anymore.
Every now and then, I can’t help but envy those animals that can wrap themselves up in a cocoon and seemingly take a lifetime to emerge anew.
I know it might sound a bit dark, but I’ve often wondered if cryogenics might have a place in my future, like I’m some kind of butterfly waiting to unfurl its wings. To start the cocoon process.
I’m still in the process of becoming the person I want to be, not quite there yet, not quite cocooned enough.
I tend to toss around the word “kaleidoscope” quite a bit- It’s like I’m navigating through a labyrinth, and I have this persistent feeling that I can uncover the hidden ending to the ever-shifting ultraviolet pattern.
Somewhere amid those rose-colored glasses, there’s a door with an infinite keycode, and I just know the password somehow. And when I finally open it, I won’t feel lost anymore; there’s someone waiting on the other side for me.

Published by Cristian Leonardo Gajardo

Welcome to Cristian’s Cafe, a website where I showcase my various forms of expression and happiness. Here you can find poetry, podcasts, personal blogging, research articles, open mic, comedy, and art. Whether you are looking for inspiration, entertainment, or information, you will find something that suits your taste and mood. Enjoy browsing through my content and feel free to leave your comments and feedback. Please note that the Wi-Fi connection may be slow or unstable at times, so please be patient and look at the art instead. Thank you for visiting Cristian’s Cafe

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