You try, you try, you try, you try again and again and again and again. You fail and you begin again, again, again, again, you do your best or the relative best. You give up but you can't really let go, so you resume your trudging all over again. You die.
I am so tired.
The sky is so immense even next to the mountains.
Wednesday, 2 December 2015
Tuesday, 1 December 2015
Human lives are governed by merciless rules. As if we were a cattle incapable of choosing our own path, fated to be directed by a firm hand. And the most laughable part is that we are indeed a cattle. Why was the reason and intelligence given to us then? What lives behind the transcendence? Will the programming of going forward and only forward be broken then? I hope there are new horizons beyond our wildest imaginations. No, scratch that. Beyond imagination.
Monday, 30 November 2015
Important words. World where words that actually do mean something, get repeated over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over, end up losing their value. What kind of a world is that? What? Why? Since when??? Uttering, declaring, citing, quoting all the while without feeling, without understanding, without comprehending.
Too many eyes turned inside. Is this the end? Is this our limit? Is this all we are worth? Worth. WORTH. What 'worth' is exactly? Measuring ourselves ceaselessly.
Too many shapes. Too many casts. Too many chisels. Too many standards.
We must bring the meaning back. The meaning of those important yet banal words. Each one of us in our own special, SINGULAR way.
Words are mere shapes. Words are mere tools. Tools and shapes are fluid, boundless, limitless, with endless variations. Morphing vessels. And what else is the designation of a vessel but that of a container?
Turns out, not everything is hopeless. Meaning is universal and immortal. A flighty faerie.
Too many eyes turned inside. Is this the end? Is this our limit? Is this all we are worth? Worth. WORTH. What 'worth' is exactly? Measuring ourselves ceaselessly.
Too many shapes. Too many casts. Too many chisels. Too many standards.
We must bring the meaning back. The meaning of those important yet banal words. Each one of us in our own special, SINGULAR way.
Words are mere shapes. Words are mere tools. Tools and shapes are fluid, boundless, limitless, with endless variations. Morphing vessels. And what else is the designation of a vessel but that of a container?
Turns out, not everything is hopeless. Meaning is universal and immortal. A flighty faerie.
Sunday, 22 November 2015
This is a miracle that I've opened this page and typing these letters in
I should have made an entry this Friday. It would've started as such, "Today I learned that I was ignorant", but then I thought over the tense and it occurred to me that it didn't appear to be correct, "was" indicates that it is in the past and it is not. I learned about my ignorance that is existent today, even right in this moment as I am writing this entry. So, I think it would've been changed more into the line of "Today I learned that I'm ignorant". Further on, I believe it would've progressed into "Learning that, is tantamount to learning that I am a hypocrite. For I've condemned ignorance to be the greatest sin that human being can commit." As you can see it is a rather neat and no doubt, dramatic beginning, that any writer to-be could wish for in his or her wain little heart. Anyway, it is a rather decent beginning and it would've made a greater impact and carried a greater profundity if it was converted into written words, or typed in this case, right away, but here I find myself. Two days later. Two days later and yet I would still like to start as it was intended to. Thus...
Today I learned that I'm ignorant. Learning that, is tantamount to learning that I am a hypocrite. For I've condemned ignorance to be the greatest sin that a human being can commit. It is a grave offense to the gift of reason. I am young and I am proud. In my youth and in my pride I have managed to forget the Death. So, we have it now. I forgot the Death. Life is a great deceiver in that it makes us forget. Human is a convenient being, we can adapt to anything and in doing so, we deem our roads to be endless. Be it the fate of our own selves or that of our loved ones, it is convenient to forget that this road can end any moment. And when it does, it comes as a great surprise. I do not want to be caught unawares. I do not want the inevitability of regret that would unfailingly accompany the surprise. I would like to ask you-myself to live with Death within my-your mind. This would help you to keep your goal within your sight. This would help you to stay true to yourself and to no one else.
Yesterday I learned my weakness. Learning that, I have realized that I am stuck between two rocks. There is no forwarding, there is no backpedaling. What remains is resolution, Loneliness, my only friend. I am strong in making you my shield, my company, my guardian. I am weak, for when the enemies attack, they would target you my castle, my army, my moat. I do not fear strength, we've been through that before, we have prevailed. We held our victory banquet in a prefect white silence. I fear affection, when they come knocking on our great oaken gates, would they be a friend or a foe? I fear us. Sometimes it feels like I am inhaling a glass. Liquid glass in my mouth, my nose, my eyes and in my ears. Pouring in until eventually our insides are turned into a cold, transparent glass. There would be no breathing then. I have no one else to share this with. Only ink and pen. Who knows, perhaps this is your-my-our salvation. This feeling isn't foreign to many after all.
Last week I learned I'm selfish. Learning that, I've understood that sometimes all there is to do is to remain and wait. Time is a great current, most effective teacher. You may tell once, you may tell twice or you may not tell at all. As long as a person does not wish to change, there is nothing anyone can do for them. As long as a person does not wish to accept, whatever you may say, whoever you might be to them it is futile. We learn only when we make mistakes, it is a bitter draught yet unavoidable. You-I will learn what we must learn. Be patient.
Last month I learned why we are disappointed or feel betrayed. It is only because we allow it to be so. When you choose to place your trust in another learn their values, what they approve and what they disapprove, whom do they admire and trust them to act in accordance. There would be no place in your heart for disappointment then.
It is 5:56 PM, as Hemingway once said "There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed."
Today I learned that I'm ignorant. Learning that, is tantamount to learning that I am a hypocrite. For I've condemned ignorance to be the greatest sin that a human being can commit. It is a grave offense to the gift of reason. I am young and I am proud. In my youth and in my pride I have managed to forget the Death. So, we have it now. I forgot the Death. Life is a great deceiver in that it makes us forget. Human is a convenient being, we can adapt to anything and in doing so, we deem our roads to be endless. Be it the fate of our own selves or that of our loved ones, it is convenient to forget that this road can end any moment. And when it does, it comes as a great surprise. I do not want to be caught unawares. I do not want the inevitability of regret that would unfailingly accompany the surprise. I would like to ask you-myself to live with Death within my-your mind. This would help you to keep your goal within your sight. This would help you to stay true to yourself and to no one else.
Yesterday I learned my weakness. Learning that, I have realized that I am stuck between two rocks. There is no forwarding, there is no backpedaling. What remains is resolution, Loneliness, my only friend. I am strong in making you my shield, my company, my guardian. I am weak, for when the enemies attack, they would target you my castle, my army, my moat. I do not fear strength, we've been through that before, we have prevailed. We held our victory banquet in a prefect white silence. I fear affection, when they come knocking on our great oaken gates, would they be a friend or a foe? I fear us. Sometimes it feels like I am inhaling a glass. Liquid glass in my mouth, my nose, my eyes and in my ears. Pouring in until eventually our insides are turned into a cold, transparent glass. There would be no breathing then. I have no one else to share this with. Only ink and pen. Who knows, perhaps this is your-my-our salvation. This feeling isn't foreign to many after all.
Last week I learned I'm selfish. Learning that, I've understood that sometimes all there is to do is to remain and wait. Time is a great current, most effective teacher. You may tell once, you may tell twice or you may not tell at all. As long as a person does not wish to change, there is nothing anyone can do for them. As long as a person does not wish to accept, whatever you may say, whoever you might be to them it is futile. We learn only when we make mistakes, it is a bitter draught yet unavoidable. You-I will learn what we must learn. Be patient.
Last month I learned why we are disappointed or feel betrayed. It is only because we allow it to be so. When you choose to place your trust in another learn their values, what they approve and what they disapprove, whom do they admire and trust them to act in accordance. There would be no place in your heart for disappointment then.
It is 5:56 PM, as Hemingway once said "There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed."
Saturday, 14 March 2015
On giving up
'Just give up' it cajoles.
'Give up?' I repeat.
'Give up' it rings out firmer now.
Suddenly there's a 'No'.
'No I won't!' categorically.
'I will burn' there's a silence.
'I will!' it retreats reluctantly.
'I will burn brighter than ever!'
'Bright enough that perhaps one day they will be blinded when they see me!'
There's only a silence left.
'Give up?' I repeat.
'Give up' it rings out firmer now.
Suddenly there's a 'No'.
'No I won't!' categorically.
'I will burn' there's a silence.
'I will!' it retreats reluctantly.
'I will burn brighter than ever!'
'Bright enough that perhaps one day they will be blinded when they see me!'
There's only a silence left.
Tuesday, 10 March 2015
Small Luxuries
I am weary. I am blank as this paper I am staring into. Listless.
This is what a routine is like. Everything falls into this neat indistinct line, where your thoughts become mechanized, stilted and unnatural.
Even my joints feel rusted over. I am continuously expecting the instant when my hand or leg or neck will stutter and come to stillness, while in the process of moving in its sockets.
I am not complaining.
I am stating as how the facts are.
Its easy to reign in my emotions. Yet. I've become surprisingly emotive as of late. There is something in my chest.
Oh, no.
Not that banal dull ache.
Just that minuscule pinpricking sensation. Which is extremely bothersome.
It is... hard to break out of this transparent jello.
It takes effort.
And perhaps I am making the effort just as my fingers are typing out these very letters.
I remember. I remember a single shooting star. A single moment when you can't even manage to take in a breath, so to describe it as a breathtaking would be a lie. A span of time that is less than a moment, where you will never be fast enough to make your wish, even if you do not believe in that notion.
A pretty belief. Yet a single shooting star in a single less-than-a-moment. All for me. All for my eyes. All for my perusal alone. Makes you remember, then and there you felt the way you were meant to feel since the moment you were conceived. Then and there you remembered how it was that you, a miserable wretch, was exceptional.
Now. You remember. That evening as you walked back home. Harsh, dry winter wind. A single noteworthy event of that day, so that you remember it even after three months. The biggest and the reddest sun, well on it's way to the other lands. The hue of the whitewashed wall of the dreary old buildings. And your wonder, exhilaration of being permitted to gaze upon that star without being afraid of the usual pain that imminently follows. Staring unabashedly, unreservedly, wishing to inhale and swallow that round glowing ball.
Small luxuries.
This is what a routine is like. Everything falls into this neat indistinct line, where your thoughts become mechanized, stilted and unnatural.
Even my joints feel rusted over. I am continuously expecting the instant when my hand or leg or neck will stutter and come to stillness, while in the process of moving in its sockets.
I am not complaining.
I am stating as how the facts are.
Its easy to reign in my emotions. Yet. I've become surprisingly emotive as of late. There is something in my chest.
Oh, no.
Not that banal dull ache.
Just that minuscule pinpricking sensation. Which is extremely bothersome.
It is... hard to break out of this transparent jello.
It takes effort.
And perhaps I am making the effort just as my fingers are typing out these very letters.
I remember. I remember a single shooting star. A single moment when you can't even manage to take in a breath, so to describe it as a breathtaking would be a lie. A span of time that is less than a moment, where you will never be fast enough to make your wish, even if you do not believe in that notion.
A pretty belief. Yet a single shooting star in a single less-than-a-moment. All for me. All for my eyes. All for my perusal alone. Makes you remember, then and there you felt the way you were meant to feel since the moment you were conceived. Then and there you remembered how it was that you, a miserable wretch, was exceptional.
Now. You remember. That evening as you walked back home. Harsh, dry winter wind. A single noteworthy event of that day, so that you remember it even after three months. The biggest and the reddest sun, well on it's way to the other lands. The hue of the whitewashed wall of the dreary old buildings. And your wonder, exhilaration of being permitted to gaze upon that star without being afraid of the usual pain that imminently follows. Staring unabashedly, unreservedly, wishing to inhale and swallow that round glowing ball.
Small luxuries.
Sunday, 27 April 2014
04.27.2014
Quite unexpectedly entered my blog today. Read my entries. Kind of surprising and amusing and embarrassing. Surprising because looking back at my thoughts, it feels like someone else wrote them, yet at the same time it's faintly familiar. Perhaps a stranger that I know. Very closely.
If you look at it from that perspective it's somewhat ironic, because it seems to be reflecting me and my knowledge of myself. I've read before that if somehow we ever saw ourselves, our brains would not recognize us, for our eyes perceive us only through the reflection. It's same in this case as well. You'd think there would be no one, who would know us better than ourselves and yet we are far from the true knowledge.
Anyway, back on topic, if you'd read my posts, I am sure you'll find it amusing as well. A truly splendid example of a lack of will. I wonder how many make promises and fail to fulfill them in the end? No matter what we may think, lying to our own selves can never be healthy. Still, are we really lying, when we make them? I think not, we have every intention of upholding them and we truly believe in our resolves. Quite a dilemma.
Still however amusing as it may be, a failure is still a failure. And indulgence to weakness is my greatest one. Perhaps, what I felt is not so much as an embarrassment, but a shame.
In any case, you reader, will be my judge. Making a mistake does not make us fools, but not to learn from them does.
If you look at it from that perspective it's somewhat ironic, because it seems to be reflecting me and my knowledge of myself. I've read before that if somehow we ever saw ourselves, our brains would not recognize us, for our eyes perceive us only through the reflection. It's same in this case as well. You'd think there would be no one, who would know us better than ourselves and yet we are far from the true knowledge.
Anyway, back on topic, if you'd read my posts, I am sure you'll find it amusing as well. A truly splendid example of a lack of will. I wonder how many make promises and fail to fulfill them in the end? No matter what we may think, lying to our own selves can never be healthy. Still, are we really lying, when we make them? I think not, we have every intention of upholding them and we truly believe in our resolves. Quite a dilemma.
Still however amusing as it may be, a failure is still a failure. And indulgence to weakness is my greatest one. Perhaps, what I felt is not so much as an embarrassment, but a shame.
In any case, you reader, will be my judge. Making a mistake does not make us fools, but not to learn from them does.
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