Intrigue and Mystique

I have no clear idea of who I am talking to. Overridden by impulse, you can say, I write to you out of sheer affinity that pulls at the chords of my being, towards the unknown. It is intriguing and evading. Talking about this, one tends to forget what was being talked about, what was it that was under discussion and what is it that matters and does not matter anymore.
It is like being a traveller but then this has always been like this. A traveller with no destination in sight. A traveller, with no destination in mind either. A traveller, who has chased one mirage after the other and has been left unappeased and ill at ease.
A vagabond, sounds more appropriate. Previously, it was more like a rudderless ship in troubled waters. There always used to be a storm and an impending shipwreck. Now it’s more like a deserted stretch of sand dunes and mirages, one after the other.
Is there a way, that I can forget about quenching my immediate thirst and stop running after the mirages, and just give in for ever and ever? Walk, I’ll still have to, but probably that would be more serene. Or so I assume. Focussed, I will be, more but there would be something that will not be quite right. This fear of the paths not treaded before. This fear of rising above the average. This insane anxiety of letting go of all the attributes that qualify one to the status of a normal human being.
I fail to solve the enigmatic riddles of forlornness and fondness. I cannot really sort out the tangles of belief and disbelief. I am enamoured at the sight of an ant carrying food bigger than it’s size. Yet, the unfolding of your skies, in front of my eyes do not amaze me. I am stupefied at how a kitten run over by an over speeding vehicle, clambers over to the footpath. I am not aghast at the wonders the black holes carry. I marvel at what attracts me to you and the force that pulls me away from you fails to earn my attention, completely.
I met a dervish who allowed me company. I followed him devoutly till I started to lag behind the ascetic monk. Then I met a Diabolic-alike in the crowd of ascetics and he failed to chase me long enough to present any competition. I found amongst the heretics, the saints of all times and amongst the holiest of men, I ran into crime. What was this all about? As I said earlier, it is not possible to fill in the voids in life created by departure of souls, by any but the like. It is also not possible to fill to the brim the ever-living chasm of thirst for knowledge, that breathes every moment to expand further and absorb more.
Once, on this path of divination and forebodings, it is not easy to stay the course unless prophetically guided. A stage is set, where no one can be taken for who, he appears to be. The characters are all played out in a way that you never really get to know the identity of the other. It does not hold much significance either. Afterall, who I am, barely has any bearing on what I am doing and what I intend to execute.
Here, I ask of you to answer the question, I put forth to you. That might not be in the form of a question, but it has descended upon your heart as it was intended to be asked. So, I will wait to hear from you. I know the answer may come in any form, in any way, and at any time but it will come. I am sure of that. Very positive.
Till the later times, I leave you here, amidst the clamour of your thoughts and unsaid vows. I leave you with the silence of your soul and beseeching of your heart to quieten the unheard imploring tales from your past-the tales that mould you into shape today. I am, meanwhile, in the queue waiting for my turn to get my drink- a refreshment- a treat, to my soring wings, clipped time and again by strokes of genii of my times.