Poetry

When schodingers said there's equal probability of anything being true and false until observed, Does that mean life is just an illusion ? Is it running under some "beliefs" ? If you choose to believe it's there. If not it's not there? If so then probability is also an illusion? I wonder believing schodingers theory is also an illusion? I'm stuck between what's real and what's not. I think we all are stuck, Blinded by greed. Running after something that's not there. What really matters?  Living? And are we?  I mean does building our life on some digits, numbers, alphabets, patterns that we created to give purpose , defines life?  Is this what we were made for? If so why does one never acquire peace? Is it because there's no such thing as peace ?  Just an illusion? Birth?  An illusion I suppose ? Death?  Also an illusion ? But what really matters?  Time? Also an illusion. But are we defining time right?  By just dividing cells/patterns of life/...

You're like a warm ray of sunshine, Like a warm hug in a tired day, Like a love so beautiful that it feels like a crime, Like the neurons that's all over my mind. They remember our last meet so vividly, That day, you smiled showing all your perfectly aligned teeth, Like you meant it with every cell of your being. You poured your warmth into that moment,  As if world wasn't about to turn cold. We saw eachother for the last time, But only I seemed to know. How can you be so unbothered by the fact that we're never going to meet ever again? How can you still shine so effortlessly? Like a sunshine breaking through a cloudy day, Like a cold breeze brushing a burning day, A paradox so beautiful that it hurts. I still remember, When your eyes locked with mine. You walked towards me like the universe had cleared all your path, No hesitation, no doubt , Just a smile that says everything that you couldn't/wouldn't seem to put into words. Almost like you were giving me all ...