A sentence on the state of affairs

Alike the clear azure skies, I would love to have a hue of cerulean 

and be free from all the clutters to have a clean view of the inner-outer 

atmosphere, and to take a firm stand on things I like and things 

I don’t like, but I always find that as in the impossibility of the sky 

to remain as blue as ever — sometimes just gloomily overcast that 

it is and sometimes the torrential rain that it becomes — my mind 

wanders in the rhythm of the ever changing shapes of the cloud, 

though I mean it from its superficial appearance; and it’s a conviction 

that every day, come rain or shine, I’ll be building up a life accentuated 

with some essence that I hope will give me unasked inspiration to 

keep moving forward, even though the sheer absurdities that are 

attached to the psyche, make my living amusing and equally deadening 

at times, which again offer ample food for thought on our existence, 

yet it matters less in the diurnal lives for it does not matter at the end 

of the day how much we are fed and how much we possess, but 

rather the state of our mind, the stories of sweet love and the 

everydayness of life define us and negotiate how we are related 

to our environments — and when we talk about our surroundings, 

our direct relationship with others supposedly enhance the meanings 

that we ever seek in life as we are not an island unto ourselves, 

as the saying goes, and unaffectedly we find several purposes when 

we go together with our siblings and friends and kin and others, 

be it in places of work or home or simple outings for pleasure, 

however, the saddest part is that the very clouds at our own 

attitudinal level that obscure us from standing up like the azure skies, 

become more stormy type; the situation is aggravated when we try 

to cross the already hostile island from our inner self, and the imminent 

dangers and wickedness become so glaring when it comes to our 

directionless social journey, you know what it means to come from 

or belong to a strife-torn place; a milieu where nothing good ever 

happens though it is gladdening at times we have so many dreams 

and aspirations, especially when the weather is fine.

P O S T C R I P T

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This is the longest sentence I have ever written in my life. Inspired by a surreal quest for the ideal beauty and truth, I have composed the sentence-paragraph and am now delighted to have done it with 388 words. Whoa!

Life is a sentence. Death, the period. 

L O N G E S T  E N G L I S H  S E N T E N C E

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| Courtesy - Wikipedia |

★ 469,375 words — Nigel Tomm's "The Blah Story"    

★ 1,287  — The Guinness Book of World Records has an entry for what it claims is the longest sentence, from William Faulkner's novel “Absalom, Absalom!” containing 1,287 words    

★ 12,931 — The last section of James Joyce's “Ulysses”, Molly Bloom's soliloquy, consists of two sentences. The first one is 11,281 words long, and the second is 12,931 words long. This held the record for the longest sentence until “The Rotter's Club” was published in 2001    

★ 13,955 — Jonathan Coe's 2001 novel “The Rotters' Club” contains a 13,955-word sentence

Now when it comes to my native language, alas, Google nor Wikipedia has the answer for me. For its own sake, I can name a long Meiteilon phrasal word Hanjinjarakkadouribasingdugidamaktadi. Learning English as a second language has helped me a lot in self-expression but I feel self-pity for my own root. The first thing I can do to get rid of the regret is to start reading the Puya.