Thursday, January 06, 2022
Saturday, August 21, 2021
To Longing...
Some may call it science―say complex neurochemical effect―or even spell work. For a yearning resting inside you, making you restless. You may want to call it time travel? For the illusion of being suspended in time―here, now―yet secure where the mind allays. The mind traverses through details of everything it has longed for―a palimpsest of heartbreaks. Perhaps, even merging of time-sculpting wishfulness and emancipated emotions overshadowed with a touch of undying unrealism, artlessly calling it hope―what often is allegorical to the sun dissolving itself in the ocean every day.
With the persistence of my longing, I may call it desiderium.
Saturday, August 07, 2021
If You Really Want Something…
work for it. (Saying this would be putting a dampener on someone's metaphysical belief.)
summon it. (so witchy!)
cry for it. (Like I did, as funny as it gets. Please don't.)
When I held this book in my hands, I wondered how something inanimate can teach me so many life lessons. There is a strong possibility I will cry every time I will hold this book. Forget Mr Darcy, this book alone makes me emotional...
Saturday, June 19, 2021
Writing: A Telescopic Perspective
The pen tempts me, so does the clacking of keys. I prefer the sound of the spacebar―almost an incomplete squeak. I find the enter key most annoying―just too loud to be a note.
Monday, April 26, 2021
Saturday, September 22, 2018
Sunday, March 11, 2018
Abstraction Is the New Restless
Some years from now on, she will pour 15-year-old rosé stored in a book cabinet, in a sparkling glass with golden rim.
Friday, March 09, 2018
Passivity Is Impeccable at Times
There lies an unpronounced discernment in the weather; the cold has been making an appearance exclusively at dawn.
Saturday, December 02, 2017
Floundering
There are places I have been and places I frequent wherein I find myself floundering—floundering to get away, associate, and then escape again.
Sunday, September 25, 2016
A Mesmerizing Effort To Soothe the Mind
How mesmerizing could it be for a normal mind to open a virtual page nobody has an access to (at least for now) and set down every fragment of thought that would wave in with an unanticipated suddenness that would tremble and recede like this inordinately long sentence?
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