Space space space ...i don't really know what to write about but there is this incessant itch inside me to write whatever is cruising through my thoughts. The only problem is that there are no commas to the continuous and disjointed mini stories that keep on flowing through the network of ganglions and receptors in my grey matter. By the way i wonder how much of it has rusted due to my continual abuse of it through the years.
I work...a snitch...i am falling asleep ...snitch....i eat snitch....i workout...snitch...sudden thoughts so powerful, so emotional and sometimes so enlightening that i almost attain nirvana or dream of being a savior of humankind, but as sudden as they come they fade into oblivion the same way. The bad part is that like the fall after a cocaine high things get so bad that even pulling a minute of further existence becomes a torture. One minute Begees is singing staying alive in my head and doing a disco and the next minute a dark song by the cure eats away the reason for my very existence.
Some or most people, depending on the environment i am in at that particular period, would call me lucky for what i have but what i have learned is that the feelings of luck, happiness and wealth are just subsets of a transcendental state of being and not anything static that one can define. I do sometimes feel gratitude for what i have and what God or destiny (for the atheists) has given me and get so drunk with joy that life becomes very meaningful but another moment a dog living on the street outside my home may feel more lucky than me i.e. if a dog can feel lucky.
I like the joy of a good book, the fall of rain on the balcony, the sight of wooly clouds with the backdrop of blue sky, bliss from the church, a motorcycle ride, a dance floor full of chicks, a case of beer before me, the face of a happy beggar when i palm him/her with a 50 rupee note and so on and on, but then poof, such joys evaporate.
No amount of bliss that the face of a lover or her caress offers remains ingrained for long within me. I do want to find the one but more often than not , maybe because of my suspicious mind or my fear of what lies beyond, one becomes another and this another becomes another and the one becomes the ones. Hell no, i have not found the one (maybe vaguely this one time) and am truthfully skeptical of finding the one.
And so it goes, and so it goes...simple fact is that we are all ants and as an ant i need a sanctuary.
Not to be confused with a loser, after all boys don't cry, i am trying my best to reinvent myself and be a better man. I don't want to feel sorry for myself either, only assholes do that (Line borrowed from Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami). I have attended church dutifully without anyone's coercing for the past month and a half and had even surprisingly stopped the stone cold steve austin beer guzzling act for the same period. Let's see where it leads.
The shit that i am writing right now, which may bear a close resemblance to the ramblings of a teenage emo head, may make me so embarrassed tomorrow that i will immediately delete this post or add some modifications, but right now it summarises the state of mental being (defined exactly by the erhu solo of the first video in my previous post) i am in so i'll just post it as it is . And hell i don't care who reads it anyway, i am not the type of person who selects topics with care and then do a few rounds of edit before posting. I write without a care and then just slap it on to my post.
Goodnight.
I work...a snitch...i am falling asleep ...snitch....i eat snitch....i workout...snitch...sudden thoughts so powerful, so emotional and sometimes so enlightening that i almost attain nirvana or dream of being a savior of humankind, but as sudden as they come they fade into oblivion the same way. The bad part is that like the fall after a cocaine high things get so bad that even pulling a minute of further existence becomes a torture. One minute Begees is singing staying alive in my head and doing a disco and the next minute a dark song by the cure eats away the reason for my very existence.
Some or most people, depending on the environment i am in at that particular period, would call me lucky for what i have but what i have learned is that the feelings of luck, happiness and wealth are just subsets of a transcendental state of being and not anything static that one can define. I do sometimes feel gratitude for what i have and what God or destiny (for the atheists) has given me and get so drunk with joy that life becomes very meaningful but another moment a dog living on the street outside my home may feel more lucky than me i.e. if a dog can feel lucky.
I like the joy of a good book, the fall of rain on the balcony, the sight of wooly clouds with the backdrop of blue sky, bliss from the church, a motorcycle ride, a dance floor full of chicks, a case of beer before me, the face of a happy beggar when i palm him/her with a 50 rupee note and so on and on, but then poof, such joys evaporate.
No amount of bliss that the face of a lover or her caress offers remains ingrained for long within me. I do want to find the one but more often than not , maybe because of my suspicious mind or my fear of what lies beyond, one becomes another and this another becomes another and the one becomes the ones. Hell no, i have not found the one (maybe vaguely this one time) and am truthfully skeptical of finding the one.
And so it goes, and so it goes...simple fact is that we are all ants and as an ant i need a sanctuary.
Not to be confused with a loser, after all boys don't cry, i am trying my best to reinvent myself and be a better man. I don't want to feel sorry for myself either, only assholes do that (Line borrowed from Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami). I have attended church dutifully without anyone's coercing for the past month and a half and had even surprisingly stopped the stone cold steve austin beer guzzling act for the same period. Let's see where it leads.
The shit that i am writing right now, which may bear a close resemblance to the ramblings of a teenage emo head, may make me so embarrassed tomorrow that i will immediately delete this post or add some modifications, but right now it summarises the state of mental being (defined exactly by the erhu solo of the first video in my previous post) i am in so i'll just post it as it is . And hell i don't care who reads it anyway, i am not the type of person who selects topics with care and then do a few rounds of edit before posting. I write without a care and then just slap it on to my post.
Goodnight.
hahaha...not bad manigga...keep it up, try to complete one book atleast,ill surely buy man,with ya autograph:)))
ReplyDeletethank you thank you...book ka ziah hmain i mawngtamah autograph ka lo tattoo zok ange
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