“At one magical instant in your early childhood, the page of a book—that string of confused, alien ciphers—shivered into meaning. Words spoke to you, gave up their secrets; at that moment, whole universes opened. You became, irrevocably, a reader.” –Alberto Manguel

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Sunday, March 22, 2015

Valid Point

Hey.. Peeps.. :) I never wanted to be recognized or found. I always believed recognition to external world makes people set expectations and expectations scare the hell out of me, like something is chasing me in an empty hallway. I never wanted to be other's cosmic bell girl to get things done when they press button or expect. 

I had my own world of small things, unusual things and looking at things from rare dimension. I sometimes wished to be not controlled by inertia. I basically never liked to be controlled. I always drew a broken cage and a wounded free bird which struggled to came out of it. I always liked to rescue living organic matter. I don't know, I always appreciate madness and even intensity for feelings.

I hated to be compared regardless of compared for good or bad, every time I was compared -I felt like a cruel emperor is conquering my Kingdom. I loved to be unnoticed and holding an unknown identity, I found my heaven in being isolated and disconnected from world. I kind of protected my identity, behavior, thoughts from being exposed. I was scared that I will be mistaken. I never wanted anyone to understand me or second with me about anything. Closeness scared me the most, it still does. I guess there must be a theory, according to which souls with matching wavelengths understand things the way you want them to be understood without any explanation. 

I never lost my focus, I always did well at work, I always was organized, I always was accurate about time and figures. I always fulfilled promises; I always lied about my name to strangers. I was obsessed with observation. I can still find a multi-story building can gaze down for hours. I find some concepts confusing and absurd. Like, we are never scared of height -it's depth we are scared of. You are not scared unless you are on top and scared of falling down. I have always been stubborn and no one can win an argument with me, but I don't want to be a part of argument in first place.

I always use to get nightmares like drowning in water or lost in a dark unknown place. I always find it upsetting to see a flower or plant die. I am a reader like it's my religion. I always try to look at the intent of something. I love being on right side of anything like in car or bed or sitting next to people. I don't know and don't want to know how valid I am. That's just me; I will never compromise with my beliefs. We all have our own valid point which doesn't need anyone's authorization. Something’s are abstract and science is not even a tangent to it. Think!! Signing out.. may God bless y’all.. :)


  1. could relate to it..was once thinking doing away with my blog identity..until I realized that maintaining anonymity is larger head-ache..seems better to simply keep smiling at everything coming to me-praises,criticism,questions,comparison without responding to it...silence is often a great weapon.......philosophy,meta-physics,practicality and realism ..all beautifully blended in this post......that falling from a height dream is common to many including me...don't know if it has a psychic or personality based interpretation.....I discovered the joy of abstract reading very late.....was simply never exposed to it..I sometimes wonder that those convicted for life time imprisonment in deserted prison cells are really punished?..they can read infinite books in silence.in isolation till eternity..amidst that cell being lit by a narrow beam of sun's rays..free from everything...no desires,no expectations,no responsibilities,no comparisons......could relate to gazing a building for hours too..some people need movies to excite them....they don't realize that the entire movie resides within one's mind.....signing off..tc:) ....and I strongly feel that you should write a book/novel on an abstract theme..not for commercial,fame reasons...a book will way outlive a person..maybe in 3015..someone somewhere would be reading a blog/book long after he/she has gone!.....found some of my blogger friends that wrote their debut books...anyways always ur call...this was wonderfully reflective to read.(just ticked that 'Writer Has Gone Mad' checkbox above..always found display of that option to be put-up interesting..maybe it has some metamorphicmeaning..streaks of madness is often not a bad quality to have afterall!)

    1. Wow, that was pretty small comment to read. Why don't you write a guest post on my blog? Think! Kidding! I always appreciate comments and feed-backs and suggestions, when I get one -I feel like, oops people read my page. That makes me do a little hokey pokey dance or may be cartwheels.
      Well, abstract reading/writing is an escape. Nothing can be compared, when you compare you kill the beauty and innocence of it. I agree –those convicted for life time imprisonment in deserted prison cells are really punished? They can read infinite books in silence. In isolation till eternity..amidst that cell being lit by a narrow beam of sun's rays..free from everything...no desires,no expectations,no responsibilities,no comparisons. Well, I think that’s the way of living they have to learn and discover the rare dimensions to look at things.
      I can write a novel, so many volumes may be and die writing. I don’t know what’s stopping me. Writer’s block may be, like Sumire of Sputnik Sweetheart. Zillions of thought cross my mind and lost into oblivion. Lately, I have been obsessed with thinking more than writing. God, am I dying? But, it’s good to be lost in thoughts, that’s how we find ourselves.
      Nope, madness is a skill entertained by rare. 


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