a fun post.. not all of this is true

I Lie down on the grass, green and serene in the Louis Kahn Plaza, as i write this piece that i don't know what shall be. the moon is there - a full moon and it reminds me of so many faces, sound and beautiful, all lost to the vagaries of life. Pretty much like the moon that fades behind the dark clouds. The majestic buildings stand tall and firm having seen battles and Earthquakes- battles of a corporate and academic nature. The moon peeps on me from between two clouds and as i look back it hides behind the cloud and a cool breeze embraces me in congratulating me on my victory over the moon. The cool breeze and the lovely but rainless weather take me to my own self inside.

The structure stands firm having seen and endured many a battle and earthquake. Yet the bricks are all tattered and old. A new fabric is needed and a new look to the structure over due. the metamorphosis (this is the year of the metamorphosis) is proving to be painful and surely a test on many accounts. Patience is just one of it.

I lie down and look at the vast sky and huge clouds above, ready to fall on me. My heart knows no fear and it knows not a friend either. My hears sees beyond the clouds into outer space for it is like the outer space - distant , dark, remote, existing but never seen or realized. Person after person that i have met and friend after friend that i have failed reminds of the expectations (that died long back) i had that someone will understand my heart.
People closest to me have had no inkling of what is happening within me or why? Where i am floating and on what? The search for my own self has become a pursuit of the self of others. I know the moon feels no joy in the sky when clouds fly by and it is lost to the breeze and games of nature. i know how inspiring the moon is and how it is capable of bringing tides to the mighty oceans. i wonder if some celestial being ever asked the moon , does it want to do so?

Every night it sets out. Lovers of the world feel that it is there to remind them of romance, inspire the poets they feel, to predict the weather the meteorologist thinks and for the kids to hear fables and fairy tales. having done this why does it need to move out again the next night on the same path and night after night in a seemingly never ending pursuit. Maybe it just wants to ensure that all is well with its beloved, somewhere, she might be.

seeing me write about itself the shy moon has hid behind the clouds and i lying on the grass in LKP (Louis Kahn Plaza) amidst the tall buildings and distant trees feel like falling in a big deep pit... of eternity and oblivion... in a world of my own.