Pseudo Writer

Swings had welcomed her bright eyes, and allowed her to fly into the skies. This is before she found her wings; but people never understood, why she loved the swings. The rusty chains, the croaking tenor, was noise to many, but a melody to her. She learnt that even metal sings; but people never understood, why she loved the swings. It's an artifact, from her world very old, but she still loves it for the stories it told. Bit by bit, nostalgia it brings; but people still don't understand, why she loves the swings.                  -Sushant Kumar Das

Very vividly, I remember that day. You understand, right? The first time when you step out, in the cold and terrifying world, and then realize it might not be as nice as you pictured in your head? Yeah, I speak of that moment. The moment you step out of your home, and take a last look towards it. And the gravity of the next few steps makes you want to just stop and sit. You remember the feeling, don’t you? You want to sit and never let go, for the road ahead seems way too hard. And the underestimated comfort of home seems like a much more appealing card. But it is not all fear and anxiety. For at the same moment you remember, that there was a reason you stepped out. This comfort may all be so soothing for you, but eventually you will have to jump out. So finally it all comes to an end. You power through the moment of doubt, for there is nothing else you can do. You cannot afford to lose this internal battle, for you’ve got something important to prove. Please remember dear, that this m...