Not through naked eyes.

 

The world is enlightening and baffling at the same time. It is an imperfect sphere hanging in space across a hot ball of fire, around which it uniformly revolves. In such circumstances, do you think that the inhabitants would be normal? What is normal? Spending ⅓ of your life sleeping so that you could stay alive for the rest? 

Ah, what species humans are! They are the most advanced on earth, yet can't inhabit the mystical deep jungles. They build comfortable homes.

They don't have terrorizing claws like a tiger or sharp teeth like a shark. They have brains! Such complex structures that they themselves have not completely understood. They used their brains to make technology to make life easier and more comfortable. Does that make them advanced? Such lazy beings! Their activities are questionable. They wage war on their own people. Differentiate and divide themselves into groups. "You are black", they say and keep their mates separate. Inhuman. 

They kill and destroy and do not realise the magnitude, of grief they spread over. What comes to their mind, cannot be determined.

Knowing that they survive on trees, they reveal their cruel part and chop them apart. When will they learn that life isn't power or money, but all you really need is time with mates and joy to satisfy

But oh these creatures intrigue and upset me at the same time. 

I wonder why writers don't write about them. They'll be busy with noting done phenomenons of nature or love! Such beauty in nature, no one can deny. And how lovely is love, I cannot lie. A mystical feeling that either people know too well or not at all. And well, the people who don't are the ones who fall into these romantic traps. Rosy lives in books they write, instead of simple journeys of life.

Humans are complex. More complex than the word could define. 

Humans know so much but don't know too! They have to remind themselves how it's going to be ok. Nothing is known by them, yet they know everything. They're unaware of the magic inside them. They show what they are but don't know the infinite deal of possibilities and achievements that can be achieved. 

They are a farrago of emotions. Kicking hormones. The angriest yet the most emotional. Some are filled with curiosity- the little tods with little fingers. Some run on continuous routines and live their blessed life with sorrow.

Their thoughts, expressions, opinions, aliveness- all showcased differently. They mix in colour with water and make the plain dry canvas into what they'd call art. They do this and create the faces of other fellows too! They have mirrors. 

They seemed to be pleased by an amalgamation of tunes which they call music. They move in related patterns which they call dance. 

Alive yet dead. What these humans are! 

However, I like these humans so far. They cannot be fit into a box. All kinds have different demeanours. All types have something to showcase. Such innocent beings. They're not unfamiliar with the world outside. Some want to know, some scared to know. Yet, all I could say: they try to live in peace on their lovely planet. Their abilities united cannot be measured. The elder ones inspire the tods. And the tods remind the elder ones to never give up. This contingent of creatures never fails to surprise. All I could do is hope that they thrive, their groovy adventure inside the imperfect sphere hanging in space.