Again the mindless chore of letting your fingers take lead of whatever it is that your brain wants to say.
Writing as an option or as a crunch or as a healing tool. Just writing.
Every blog starts with an I. Every blog has stories of bereavement, personal hurts, experiences. Some trivialize it, some inspire, some are repetitive. But each helps the writer. The internet triumphs yet again, we are connected, we do care, even if it's only the likes we put on the pages or the comments we enter.
I started out as wanting to write this as a passionate outburst, born out of many months of laziness and not writing. Halfway through the first sentence it became a need to be funny, possibly out of the fear that many people will read this blog and judge, comment, think, rethink and eventually form opinions.
So I shall write a poem. Since that appeals to my romantic soul and feels tragic like enough. Today we are tragic and pensive and introspective.
But the trouble with writing a poem that sums up all your feelings..is the trouble. It's difficult and quite a task. Especially to non rhymers like me who love to rhyme but cannot go beyond cat, mat, rat etc.
Once I remember writing that words are like cats, they come and go as they please. Today is the truth testing time of that statement. And it rings true...they don't come as soon as they are called. They need to be cajoled, to be entreated, threatened, alternated with kind words. Words for words.
2014 shall forever be marked in my life as the Year Of Marriages. Expected ones and unexpected ones too.
2014 is increasingly turning out to be like 2012. Where things were just going round and round. Or derailing like the roller coaster at Imagica.
25 really makes you think - "What shit did you write about when you were 21? And what utmost crap was happening at 22 to make you post stuff like that?"
So now, I am all grown up. 25 and aware of situations. To say the right thing at the right time and write the right thing at the right time. Write, right, write, right.
Convoluted.
As of now, I think getting grips with the fact that I am travelling for almost 1 and half hours to reach my workplace is a task enough.
But since non rhymers like me can attempt once in a while,
To sit on mat alongside a cat,
reading a book
and flying away to the fairy brook.
This is what I want the most right now. Just flying.
Writing as an option or as a crunch or as a healing tool. Just writing.
Every blog starts with an I. Every blog has stories of bereavement, personal hurts, experiences. Some trivialize it, some inspire, some are repetitive. But each helps the writer. The internet triumphs yet again, we are connected, we do care, even if it's only the likes we put on the pages or the comments we enter.
I started out as wanting to write this as a passionate outburst, born out of many months of laziness and not writing. Halfway through the first sentence it became a need to be funny, possibly out of the fear that many people will read this blog and judge, comment, think, rethink and eventually form opinions.
So I shall write a poem. Since that appeals to my romantic soul and feels tragic like enough. Today we are tragic and pensive and introspective.
But the trouble with writing a poem that sums up all your feelings..is the trouble. It's difficult and quite a task. Especially to non rhymers like me who love to rhyme but cannot go beyond cat, mat, rat etc.
Once I remember writing that words are like cats, they come and go as they please. Today is the truth testing time of that statement. And it rings true...they don't come as soon as they are called. They need to be cajoled, to be entreated, threatened, alternated with kind words. Words for words.
2014 shall forever be marked in my life as the Year Of Marriages. Expected ones and unexpected ones too.
2014 is increasingly turning out to be like 2012. Where things were just going round and round. Or derailing like the roller coaster at Imagica.
25 really makes you think - "What shit did you write about when you were 21? And what utmost crap was happening at 22 to make you post stuff like that?"
So now, I am all grown up. 25 and aware of situations. To say the right thing at the right time and write the right thing at the right time. Write, right, write, right.
Convoluted.
As of now, I think getting grips with the fact that I am travelling for almost 1 and half hours to reach my workplace is a task enough.
But since non rhymers like me can attempt once in a while,
To sit on mat alongside a cat,
reading a book
and flying away to the fairy brook.
This is what I want the most right now. Just flying.
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