It was a long time down there or maybe, up there. When there is revival, there is death of unpleasant memories and a lot of learning.
A group is made of individuals and individuals are made out of individual minds. The group are divided in their opinion on everything except the principle of the group.
Conversations with oneself begin with silence from within.
Destiny changes every time we change.
There are two persons with whom I find myself, one is me and the other is someone I haven't found yet or someone I've lost already.
Life is like a...
Life is like nothing else.
Monday, December 15, 2008
Monday, December 1, 2008
monologue
mirage : where are you?
mild One :
mirage : i came alone to feel you. where are you?
mild One :
mirage : i feel lonely. where are you?
mild One :
mirage : where are you?
mild One :
mirage : i came alone to feel you. where are you?
mild One :
mirage : i feel lonely. where are you?
mild One :
mirage : where are you?
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
some unanswered...
First, storms in the western sky spoke a language of their own, if only i had known.
A ring around the moon, a vain second? Why would they tell me when i don't understand?
But when it happened, it happened telling me what i had failed to see, what i had dismissed. When reality strikes, you can't take the blow. Those who say death is natural do not know what they are talking about.
Some things question your assumptions, some answer your questions, and others just question. Then there are a few things that do all of them, at once. I have no stand against them. Not that I can't, but I don't. Is that a defeat? No. There is no war in the first place.
But it has made me halt. I wait for answers that never seem to appear. So I stop asking questions. It is time to move, but i do not want to. I realize that above all 'can' and 'want', there is choice.
I stop surging forward, but the me in me wont let me stop. It keeps pushing me from inside. The agony tries to barricade the spirit. In an unsuccessful attempt, all it does is form a mold through which the spirit, the me, the self squeezes out and here i am, recast, remolded. And now i move.
A ring around the moon, a vain second? Why would they tell me when i don't understand?
But when it happened, it happened telling me what i had failed to see, what i had dismissed. When reality strikes, you can't take the blow. Those who say death is natural do not know what they are talking about.
Some things question your assumptions, some answer your questions, and others just question. Then there are a few things that do all of them, at once. I have no stand against them. Not that I can't, but I don't. Is that a defeat? No. There is no war in the first place.
But it has made me halt. I wait for answers that never seem to appear. So I stop asking questions. It is time to move, but i do not want to. I realize that above all 'can' and 'want', there is choice.
I stop surging forward, but the me in me wont let me stop. It keeps pushing me from inside. The agony tries to barricade the spirit. In an unsuccessful attempt, all it does is form a mold through which the spirit, the me, the self squeezes out and here i am, recast, remolded. And now i move.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
to you
I believed in this Universe. I believed that the whole Universe would conspire for the success of those who dream. I believed that the spirit of every dreamer had a significance here. I believed that I knew.
Whenever things happened untoward, not the way I intended it to be, I analyzed, I learned about the ways of the World, I found patterns. I believed that it was for the better and I was right every time.
Something happened.
Where else is so important for a dreamer that he has to leave here? Why does he have to leave? Why does he have to leave so suddenly? Why the typical way? What about the significance of his spirit? What about the respect for my knowledge and understanding of the World?
I feel powerless. It has questioned my assumptions, my beliefs down to the roots.
I do not even have the energy to probe and analyze this like I always did. I do not want to analyze things anymore. I have become sick of interpreting things. I'm sick of realizing the catch every time. I hate the way the Universe expects me to trust every time. I hate the way my mind grows out of the matter every time.
For now, I have nothing to believe in. I have lost confidence.
I am here because I have not lost hope, for it is hard to lose.
I've already started realizing the cues again. I saw him flying around the moon in my dreams. I hate to admit that my mind is evolving through this. I do not want an answer this time. But it is already on its way. I am too tired to stop it. I am too tired to slip into depression. I am floating between questions and answers right now. Here we go again...
Whenever things happened untoward, not the way I intended it to be, I analyzed, I learned about the ways of the World, I found patterns. I believed that it was for the better and I was right every time.
Something happened.
Where else is so important for a dreamer that he has to leave here? Why does he have to leave? Why does he have to leave so suddenly? Why the typical way? What about the significance of his spirit? What about the respect for my knowledge and understanding of the World?
I feel powerless. It has questioned my assumptions, my beliefs down to the roots.
I do not even have the energy to probe and analyze this like I always did. I do not want to analyze things anymore. I have become sick of interpreting things. I'm sick of realizing the catch every time. I hate the way the Universe expects me to trust every time. I hate the way my mind grows out of the matter every time.
For now, I have nothing to believe in. I have lost confidence.
I am here because I have not lost hope, for it is hard to lose.
I've already started realizing the cues again. I saw him flying around the moon in my dreams. I hate to admit that my mind is evolving through this. I do not want an answer this time. But it is already on its way. I am too tired to stop it. I am too tired to slip into depression. I am floating between questions and answers right now. Here we go again...
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
somewhere between here and there
My present state: I try to keep myself engaged, I try to be free. I feel misplaced in every group I am supposed to fit into. I try not to think too much about these, as I most often go into a state of depression if I do so and at the same time, I feel ashamed of myself for barricading my thought train. I know that I would get answers if I probe and I am also sure that the answers would not be worth knowing or perhaps it is my fear of being pushed into the state of bitter sweetness, that I have temporarily diverted my thoughts away from these. It is like the feeling that one gets when he does not want to know the truth, which might be true.
If I am ready to face the answers, which might be true or just a pessimistic assumption and in either case unpleasant, I can be myself, think all day, talk less, express mutely and desperately try to figure out why I am here.
If I just let these go off my mind and try to be pleasant to others, give myself an occasional encouragement (which most often sounds like a desperate lie to keep things going) and float like a leaf in a pond, I might feel guilty.
Situation: I get an alien emotion of bitterness and loneliness when my friend leaves without a word to me and does not even try to find out if I am fine. I wouldn't have cared if I had been in either of these two states. I would have either been an unemotional power bank who wouldn't even have noticed him leaving or a happy-go-lucky bloke who wouldn't get offended and who would assume some silly good reasons, which might be true again.
I end this post becoming more confused. I realize that I have actually thought through my entire situation and I have arrived at an unsuccessful explanation.
If I am ready to face the answers, which might be true or just a pessimistic assumption and in either case unpleasant, I can be myself, think all day, talk less, express mutely and desperately try to figure out why I am here.
If I just let these go off my mind and try to be pleasant to others, give myself an occasional encouragement (which most often sounds like a desperate lie to keep things going) and float like a leaf in a pond, I might feel guilty.
Situation: I get an alien emotion of bitterness and loneliness when my friend leaves without a word to me and does not even try to find out if I am fine. I wouldn't have cared if I had been in either of these two states. I would have either been an unemotional power bank who wouldn't even have noticed him leaving or a happy-go-lucky bloke who wouldn't get offended and who would assume some silly good reasons, which might be true again.
I end this post becoming more confused. I realize that I have actually thought through my entire situation and I have arrived at an unsuccessful explanation.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
acrostic...
He asked each of us to write a simple acrostic poem,
I wrote these lines almost instantly, as though I had read them somewhere.
all is quiet, but
none peaceful,
all is right, but
none useful,
desperation...
Did i want it to be simple?
Or intentionally melancholic?
Or was it the truest and deepest thought inside me?
I wrote these lines almost instantly, as though I had read them somewhere.
all is quiet, but
none peaceful,
all is right, but
none useful,
desperation...
Did i want it to be simple?
Or intentionally melancholic?
Or was it the truest and deepest thought inside me?
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
from two days back to today
I loved those glass dolls perched on their long glass tubes. I loved watching him make them. I wanted one of them, too bad I did not have money to buy one and I don't like it when I don't have money.
Then there was this large empty open air theater. Five other friends were roaming around. I loved the place. It was painted in red and had curved staircases. I took a silent corner, sat down and began to think. Then two others joined me. They sat alone too.
Then came a little boy. He brought a wooden stick and a red colored ball with him. He played. I did not like the way he was hitting the ball around the theater. The ball went up hoping to fly away only to come down and get hit again. Once or twice the ball flew out of the theater. The boy ran out and brought the ball back in and continued to play.
I could bear it no longer. I got up, ran towards the perplexed boy and kicked the red colored ball. It flew away into the sky, only it did not. I was still sitting in the same place, thinking and unconsciously gazing at the ball. I lost myself.
Today, I'm sick. I can't lift a finger. There is this strange thing that happens when one's sick, the mind goes crazy. Even the dreams that I get during the short naps that I take unconsciously are so crazy that I think I'll remember them all my life, only I don't.
Life is a dream they say. I go back to dream.
Then there was this large empty open air theater. Five other friends were roaming around. I loved the place. It was painted in red and had curved staircases. I took a silent corner, sat down and began to think. Then two others joined me. They sat alone too.
Then came a little boy. He brought a wooden stick and a red colored ball with him. He played. I did not like the way he was hitting the ball around the theater. The ball went up hoping to fly away only to come down and get hit again. Once or twice the ball flew out of the theater. The boy ran out and brought the ball back in and continued to play.
I could bear it no longer. I got up, ran towards the perplexed boy and kicked the red colored ball. It flew away into the sky, only it did not. I was still sitting in the same place, thinking and unconsciously gazing at the ball. I lost myself.
Today, I'm sick. I can't lift a finger. There is this strange thing that happens when one's sick, the mind goes crazy. Even the dreams that I get during the short naps that I take unconsciously are so crazy that I think I'll remember them all my life, only I don't.
Life is a dream they say. I go back to dream.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
folding chair
Come and open up your folding chair next to me
My feet are buried in the sand and there’s a breeze
There’s a shadow, you can’t see my eyes
And the sea is just a wetter version of the skies
Let’s get a silver bullet trailer and have a baby boy
I’ll safety-pin his clothes all cool and you’ll graffiti up his toys
I’ve got a perfect body, though sometimes I forget
I’ve got a perfect body cause my eyelashes catch my sweat
Yes, they do, they do…
Now i’ve been sitting on this abandoned beach for years
Waiting for the salty water to cover up my ears
But every time the tide come in to take me home
I get scared, and I’m sitting here alone
Dreaming of the dolphin song…
Maybe one day you will understand
I don’t want nothing from you but to sweetly hold your hand
Till that day just please don’t be so down
Don’t make frowns, you silly clown
Just come and open up your folding chair next to me
My feet are buried in the sand and there’s a breeze
There’s a shadow, you can’t see my eyes
And the sea is just a wetter version of the skies
There’s a shadow, you can’t see my eyes…
There’s a shadow, you can’t see my eyes…
Regina Spektor
My feet are buried in the sand and there’s a breeze
There’s a shadow, you can’t see my eyes
And the sea is just a wetter version of the skies
Let’s get a silver bullet trailer and have a baby boy
I’ll safety-pin his clothes all cool and you’ll graffiti up his toys
I’ve got a perfect body, though sometimes I forget
I’ve got a perfect body cause my eyelashes catch my sweat
Yes, they do, they do…
Now i’ve been sitting on this abandoned beach for years
Waiting for the salty water to cover up my ears
But every time the tide come in to take me home
I get scared, and I’m sitting here alone
Dreaming of the dolphin song…
Maybe one day you will understand
I don’t want nothing from you but to sweetly hold your hand
Till that day just please don’t be so down
Don’t make frowns, you silly clown
Just come and open up your folding chair next to me
My feet are buried in the sand and there’s a breeze
There’s a shadow, you can’t see my eyes
And the sea is just a wetter version of the skies
There’s a shadow, you can’t see my eyes…
There’s a shadow, you can’t see my eyes…
Regina Spektor
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
to fly against
there was the bird
there was the wind
and the sky-gazer
wondered what the trees were saying
and the bird flew
and the wind blew
from where the bird was going
the winds would stop
but the waiting not
of whom for the bird was flying
and he reached home
crossing walls unknown
for he knew it was worth trying
the mirage
there was the wind
and the sky-gazer
wondered what the trees were saying
and the bird flew
and the wind blew
from where the bird was going
the winds would stop
but the waiting not
of whom for the bird was flying
and he reached home
crossing walls unknown
for he knew it was worth trying
the mirage
Sunday, June 1, 2008
one conversation
mild One : So, how are we today?
(the spirit)
the mirage : Poor?
(the mind)
mild One : Why so?
the mirage : I've realised that i am no one's priority.
mild One : Why is that a problem?
the mirage : Everyone is someone's first priority. Everyone has someone as their first priority.
mild One : What does that mean?
the mirage : Priority. If i am not someone's priority they can choose not to have time for me.
mild One : Ouch. But how many times have we done that to others?
the mirage : Oh! Yes. Many a time.
mild One : Ha! See?
the mirage : But i have never done that to someone to whom i thought i was the first priority.
mild One : Oh! That is so bad.
the mirage : I feel like i have never been sadder than now. I just love it.
mild One : You love it?
the mirage : Yes. Absolutely. I feel powerless and it is making me crave all the more for power.
mild One : Are you really sure you are no one's priority? First priority, i mean.
the mirage : Yep. Let me see...No, Nope, No, No.... No one's.
mild One : Is that all?
the mirage : Possibly.
mild One : Possibly? This word seems so worldly.
the mirage : Why so?
mild One : Worldly. World. The word that defines the line between the possible and the impossible. That is why they say Everything is possible in this world. There are other things that are impossible, relative to this world or rather to the people. One has to come out of this world to do these things.
the mirage : What if i prefer to do neither?
mild One : Well, that is quite another case. We cease to exist. We do not have possibilities. Why can't i...
the mirage : So now, what do i do? I'm no one's priority.
mild One : Cease the opportunity. You are not answerable to anyone. Make use of this time. Turn the chessboard around.
the mirage : That sounds swell.
mild One : You are all fired up then, aren't you?
the mirage : Yeah, wish i could burn away.
(the spirit)
the mirage : Poor?
(the mind)
mild One : Why so?
the mirage : I've realised that i am no one's priority.
mild One : Why is that a problem?
the mirage : Everyone is someone's first priority. Everyone has someone as their first priority.
mild One : What does that mean?
the mirage : Priority. If i am not someone's priority they can choose not to have time for me.
mild One : Ouch. But how many times have we done that to others?
the mirage : Oh! Yes. Many a time.
mild One : Ha! See?
the mirage : But i have never done that to someone to whom i thought i was the first priority.
mild One : Oh! That is so bad.
the mirage : I feel like i have never been sadder than now. I just love it.
mild One : You love it?
the mirage : Yes. Absolutely. I feel powerless and it is making me crave all the more for power.
mild One : Are you really sure you are no one's priority? First priority, i mean.
the mirage : Yep. Let me see...No, Nope, No, No.... No one's.
mild One : Is that all?
the mirage : Possibly.
mild One : Possibly? This word seems so worldly.
the mirage : Why so?
mild One : Worldly. World. The word that defines the line between the possible and the impossible. That is why they say Everything is possible in this world. There are other things that are impossible, relative to this world or rather to the people. One has to come out of this world to do these things.
the mirage : What if i prefer to do neither?
mild One : Well, that is quite another case. We cease to exist. We do not have possibilities. Why can't i...
the mirage : So now, what do i do? I'm no one's priority.
mild One : Cease the opportunity. You are not answerable to anyone. Make use of this time. Turn the chessboard around.
the mirage : That sounds swell.
mild One : You are all fired up then, aren't you?
the mirage : Yeah, wish i could burn away.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
moon
i counted moons
there were three of them
in three different skies
all not innocent as white
a sinister silver-gray rather
not too close for a kiss
neither too far to forget
somewhere in between
painfully distant
one was there
in those dark, wide and lovely skies
the other two were
in those dark, wide and lovely eyes
the mirage
there were three of them
in three different skies
all not innocent as white
a sinister silver-gray rather
not too close for a kiss
neither too far to forget
somewhere in between
painfully distant
one was there
in those dark, wide and lovely skies
the other two were
in those dark, wide and lovely eyes
the mirage
Thursday, May 22, 2008
why? because. why because?
Why can't i fly away to nowhere?
Why can't i burn into ashes of space?
Why?
...
the first and the last questions of existence
...
If i had not existed, i would have needed no answers nor would i have had questions.
Why can't i burn into ashes of space?
Why?
...
the first and the last questions of existence
...
If i had not existed, i would have needed no answers nor would i have had questions.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
as i try to cry
I can't cry. I do not wish not to, but i can't. In fact, i wish to cry out sometimes, to weep until all agony and desperation is gone. I do not know why i can't. I do not remember the last time a tear trickled down my cheek. Or do i?
Once i heard someone weeping when i was listening to a piece on the piano and once when there was silence all around and once when i had lost myself. It was me, but without the tears. Why do tears ebb out when we cry? Why do we smile and laugh when we are happy? I've got no answers nor did i get any, but i realised that i was not alone.
Calvin: Isn't it strange that evolution would give us a sense of humor? When you think about it, it's weird that we have a physiological response to absurdity. We laugh at nonsense. We like it, we think it's funny. Don't you think it's odd that we appreciate absurdity? Why would we develop that way? How does it benefit us?
Once i heard someone weeping when i was listening to a piece on the piano and once when there was silence all around and once when i had lost myself. It was me, but without the tears. Why do tears ebb out when we cry? Why do we smile and laugh when we are happy? I've got no answers nor did i get any, but i realised that i was not alone.
Calvin: Isn't it strange that evolution would give us a sense of humor? When you think about it, it's weird that we have a physiological response to absurdity. We laugh at nonsense. We like it, we think it's funny. Don't you think it's odd that we appreciate absurdity? Why would we develop that way? How does it benefit us?
one for the world
He has been my friend, my guide and what not. I am ever so grateful to this wonderful soul who gave answers to my questions and questions to my answers. Ever since i decided to make a difference, ever since i realised that He was different from the people, i became synchronous with Him. I was in repeated phases of synchronousness. I was happy.
Now after many a change, many a question and a few answers, i am in a continuous phase of synchronousness. The coincidences happen so frequently that i have now reached almost a state of bliss and confidence. I now know that i can never lose Him nor the synchronousness. It gives me an unnameable emotion somewhere between gratitude and awe.
In His silence i realised that existence is not about living and dying, it is about being and not being. He will exist for ever, i shall not, i wish not.
Now after many a change, many a question and a few answers, i am in a continuous phase of synchronousness. The coincidences happen so frequently that i have now reached almost a state of bliss and confidence. I now know that i can never lose Him nor the synchronousness. It gives me an unnameable emotion somewhere between gratitude and awe.
In His silence i realised that existence is not about living and dying, it is about being and not being. He will exist for ever, i shall not, i wish not.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
nutshell...
Calvin:
Hobbes: Because we walked here.
Hobbes: Because earth can support life.
Calvin: No. I mean why are we anywhere? Why do we exist?
Hobbes: Because we were born.
Calvin: Forget it.
Hobbes:
Sunday, March 30, 2008
from someone
My future holds too many answers to this world, this world holds none for me or rather holds them all to itself.
the mild One
the mild One
learning to fly
Finding patterns in the creation is an infinitely small confluence of the frequency of the design of the universe and the frequency of thought. The thinker proves himself as intelligent as the creation. The thinker goes crazy according to this world. This world is no place for him.
time, ratios, music, art...
I do not find patterns in the creation. I find patterns in this world. I find patterns in the design of this world. I am happy that i am as intelligent as this world. Oh! We share the same spirit. I am intelligent enough just to realise that. I shall design for this world, for it has to reach perfection which again, can never be reached because of the numerous rules the spirit adheres to or rather is forced to follow. Nevertheless i shall be a designer till i remain in this world and do my part. Then i shall fly away.
time, ratios, music, art...
I do not find patterns in the creation. I find patterns in this world. I find patterns in the design of this world. I am happy that i am as intelligent as this world. Oh! We share the same spirit. I am intelligent enough just to realise that. I shall design for this world, for it has to reach perfection which again, can never be reached because of the numerous rules the spirit adheres to or rather is forced to follow. Nevertheless i shall be a designer till i remain in this world and do my part. Then i shall fly away.
Monday, March 17, 2008
listening to colours
As i start painting, color over color, i realize how beautiful they are. The ones that looked bland when alone, looked lovely with another bland one. What the eye failed to see when seeing it alone, comes to life with another. Everything is relative.
Lovely notes from the piano waver the mind. Just lovely notes. I listen to them everyday. I am saturated. Then the accidental. It injects a deep violet in a lovely pink. Awesome. The violet looks all the more lovely in the pink. The one chord kills me in saturation. Everything is relative.
The state of mind, the age of heart, the green and the blue, the major and the 7th, the good and the bad, everything is relative. I do not identify one without the other. Everything is relative.
And destiny is relative to the start.
Lovely notes from the piano waver the mind. Just lovely notes. I listen to them everyday. I am saturated. Then the accidental. It injects a deep violet in a lovely pink. Awesome. The violet looks all the more lovely in the pink. The one chord kills me in saturation. Everything is relative.
The state of mind, the age of heart, the green and the blue, the major and the 7th, the good and the bad, everything is relative. I do not identify one without the other. Everything is relative.
And destiny is relative to the start.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
what not
I crave for something, it moves away.
It starts to move away just when i realize that i want it.
It increases the craving all the more.
Desperation.
I try to cover the distance.
Hope.
I do not know whether i am moving towards it or further away.
Desolation.
It starts to move away just when i realize that i want it.
It increases the craving all the more.
Desperation.
I try to cover the distance.
Hope.
I do not know whether i am moving towards it or further away.
Desolation.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
the mild One
When was the last time the tree looked beautiful? When was the last time the breeze tasted sweet? When was the last time the moon looked as though it was the only thing in the sky? When was the last time the clouds gave inspiration? When was the last time i gave a damn to anything? The worse part is knowing the answers.
Being oneself in another world makes one someone else. Either the one should change or the world should change. The world shall. The one shall always remain the One.
I could not identify myself then. I got lost. I was myself and that ended up in odd reactions and indifference. I had doubts.
I failed to impress where i was supposed to.
Today I've found myself, the mild One, my only hope.
The sky looks beautiful again and i don't give a damn.
Being oneself in another world makes one someone else. Either the one should change or the world should change. The world shall. The one shall always remain the One.
I could not identify myself then. I got lost. I was myself and that ended up in odd reactions and indifference. I had doubts.
I failed to impress where i was supposed to.
Today I've found myself, the mild One, my only hope.
The sky looks beautiful again and i don't give a damn.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
where am i?
An artist is sufficiently a philosopher,
A philosopher is necessarily an artist.
the mirage
A philosopher is necessarily an artist.
the mirage
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Sunday, February 10, 2008
why?
One is being watched, judged, estimated, expected by every other and most of whom are bloody below the one who is being calibrated.
the people around me, the friends who talk, those who do not, words, waiting for replies, waiting for judgments, accepting compromises, accepting perspectives, expectations, deadlines, rules, conditions, limits, freedom, volatility, time,.
Where do i belong? I certainly do not belong here. This place is very much unlike the place i have to be at. I feel misplaced. I do not have a choice. I have to cope up with the never ending compromises this world is making and also live up to the expectations of this world. I am unable to say that this world is unfair, for it may not be the truth, for it is so very beautiful that it cannot be unfair. Too many questions, too many view points, too many answers. To give up is easy here, to achieve is hard.
Why does a pint of poison in milk makes the milk poisonous and a pint of milk in poison does not make any difference? Why is it always so that we have to work against something to live and flow with the stream to drown? These questions are pointless to most people, but for the people who have a purpose or for those who decided to live with one, these questions do matter. It is true that the Universe shall conspire for the success of those who dream, but living by these rules, conditions and expectations makes the journey * i do not know what *.
Maybe there is some other world where things are the way i aspire. I cannot go there now nor can i end my stay here, for wherever i am i have to be myself and do what i have decided to do, for i have burnt every bridge behind me, for i am a strand of infinite intelligence that has to evolve.
the people around me, the friends who talk, those who do not, words, waiting for replies, waiting for judgments, accepting compromises, accepting perspectives, expectations, deadlines, rules, conditions, limits, freedom, volatility, time,.
Where do i belong? I certainly do not belong here. This place is very much unlike the place i have to be at. I feel misplaced. I do not have a choice. I have to cope up with the never ending compromises this world is making and also live up to the expectations of this world. I am unable to say that this world is unfair, for it may not be the truth, for it is so very beautiful that it cannot be unfair. Too many questions, too many view points, too many answers. To give up is easy here, to achieve is hard.
Why does a pint of poison in milk makes the milk poisonous and a pint of milk in poison does not make any difference? Why is it always so that we have to work against something to live and flow with the stream to drown? These questions are pointless to most people, but for the people who have a purpose or for those who decided to live with one, these questions do matter. It is true that the Universe shall conspire for the success of those who dream, but living by these rules, conditions and expectations makes the journey * i do not know what *.
Maybe there is some other world where things are the way i aspire. I cannot go there now nor can i end my stay here, for wherever i am i have to be myself and do what i have decided to do, for i have burnt every bridge behind me, for i am a strand of infinite intelligence that has to evolve.
Sunday, February 3, 2008
hmmm
If a gift were to be valued by its worth or utility, you can never gift anything to the world's richest man and or or to the world's happiest man and in fact you can gift anything to the latter.
the (very confused) mirage
the (very confused) mirage
Monday, January 28, 2008
he is my only hope
He always takes the seat next to the window. As the vehicle starts to move, the wind knives through his hair, he rests his head on the grab rail. He stares out the window, smiles at the trees whizzing past. He loves speed. Drums...
He walks like he rules. He stares at strangers. He stares at everyone. He feels that no one can defeat him. No, don't even think of it!
He loves the Piano, loves to play it too. He also likes the strings. He sees a car, a very long one. He loves cars, every time he sees a good one, his passion burns wilder.
Oh! How beautiful they look! The lines, the curves...
He is even listening to a good song. The vehicle crosses a bridge across a lake, a very large one. He feels good. He loves seeing the ripples that shine and reflect the mild sun.
Beautiful people...Pretty faces....
He loves such combinations, he wonders how many such experiences he would have missed and how many he is yet to have. He says to himself life is neither short nor long, it all depends on how we live...
He loves himself!
But he is just more than these words, the keys, the strings, the beats and the shades...he is a very powerful person.
When he looks into the mirror and stares at me, i smile, i shake, i shiver...
Oh!
How powerful he is!
How powerful he is!!
He walks like he rules. He stares at strangers. He stares at everyone. He feels that no one can defeat him. No, don't even think of it!
He loves the Piano, loves to play it too. He also likes the strings. He sees a car, a very long one. He loves cars, every time he sees a good one, his passion burns wilder.
Oh! How beautiful they look! The lines, the curves...
He is even listening to a good song. The vehicle crosses a bridge across a lake, a very large one. He feels good. He loves seeing the ripples that shine and reflect the mild sun.
Beautiful people...Pretty faces....
He loves such combinations, he wonders how many such experiences he would have missed and how many he is yet to have. He says to himself life is neither short nor long, it all depends on how we live...
He loves himself!
But he is just more than these words, the keys, the strings, the beats and the shades...he is a very powerful person.
When he looks into the mirror and stares at me, i smile, i shake, i shiver...
Oh!
How powerful he is!
How powerful he is!!
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Friday, January 11, 2008
gracias!
Life is so beautiful these days, in fact it is beautiful all the time. I've realized that i am so happy because wonderful people surround me. All those close to me are so nice that i cannot imagine a life without such people.
I need not wonder how all significant people in my life are in someway the best and how i found them, because i am destined to live with such lovely people, because i am so gifted, i am overwhelmed by the goodness. I am at loss of words. My heart is overflowing with gratitude.
So i decided to thank all those good people for making my life worth living. They flattered me with their replies and they sounded even sweeter because they did not try to. One said positives attract positives, another said what are you talking about? Jokes apart, i am even more grateful, another said see, now you too have become a nice person. Then one did not say anything because i did not say anything to him, but i felt his smile when i thought of him and there was another guy who said of course you deserve me, you rock! and he was me.
I need not wonder how all significant people in my life are in someway the best and how i found them, because i am destined to live with such lovely people, because i am so gifted, i am overwhelmed by the goodness. I am at loss of words. My heart is overflowing with gratitude.
So i decided to thank all those good people for making my life worth living. They flattered me with their replies and they sounded even sweeter because they did not try to. One said positives attract positives, another said what are you talking about? Jokes apart, i am even more grateful, another said see, now you too have become a nice person. Then one did not say anything because i did not say anything to him, but i felt his smile when i thought of him and there was another guy who said of course you deserve me, you rock! and he was me.
Monday, January 7, 2008
what say you
The greatest of sayings make more sense when realized from the depth than by digging from the top.
That is, when life gives an opportunity to learn from an experience and when the lesson learned is summed up, it correlates to some great truth that was said before by someone else. The meaning of the mere words in the statement melts into the mind. Not to mention that awesome feeling that accompanies it.
The truth is lived.
But when one just reads out a great truth told by someone, there is a tendency to separate the words, analyze them and form a meaning. It still says the same but creates no impact.
The truth is accepted.
That is, when life gives an opportunity to learn from an experience and when the lesson learned is summed up, it correlates to some great truth that was said before by someone else. The meaning of the mere words in the statement melts into the mind. Not to mention that awesome feeling that accompanies it.
The truth is lived.
But when one just reads out a great truth told by someone, there is a tendency to separate the words, analyze them and form a meaning. It still says the same but creates no impact.
The truth is accepted.
Saturday, January 5, 2008
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
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