Sometimes
I get moved by something so much that it becomes tough to locate myself. I HATE
this kind of “getting drifted away” feeling, makes me feel so helpless, but
some things have such a strong intensity, that I cannot stay unmoved. Kurt
Cobain. I cannot write about him. I just want to mention his name, for the kind
of truthfulness and the passion he had but didn’t know.
An Evening's Impressions
On an evening like this, quiet, Soft, smooth and scarlet hanging flabbily out of the blueprints of a humdrum day of early summers Dirty as I roved in the porch watching blue herons serenading on the green branches of the Mango tree, the thought that clicked me first wasn’t of yesterday’s memories, or today’s accomplishments or tomorrow’s clear-cut charts or of the meadows full of green rain-soaked grass with heaps of moss gleaming in moonlight, or of where the stars hide in the day but of an ordinary world with ordinary things. It seemed the perfect moment to say a good-bye to this hyperbolized world and its gaudy lights and intemperate facades and to return into the lanes of a wrinkle-free world full of geese and swans. fairy tales slipping out of the pockets and memories from childhood taking form of sounds and noises, into aimless ramblings of the dreams and the magic-filled nights, which followed the motion of the stars and eavesdropped the silent whispers that the gasping earth ma...
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