Love life

There he stood with his glasses, waiting for the love of his life:

Excuse me, Sir?

Yes, Damitri?

Madam has just left and sent you this note

As he opened the note he was filled with emotions. What did she write? Where is she? Is she leaving him?

“Dear David, I have to go back to my father’s village, he needs me and he’s sick. He has no one to take care of him. He is all alone. I need to go. Please do not follow me. I do not know when I will see you again”

David was confused, surprised as it was all unexpected. What has just happened? He had no idea what to do. Leaving her would be what she wants, but it wouldn’t solve the problem. It wouldn’t bring back their love. But it’s a family crisis and he didn’t have her address. They had just dated for two weeks. But he knew he loved her. How could he go on with his life without thinking about her and her laughter? Her enthusiasm and kindness? It would be impossible

He went to the pub that night, he hoped to get some solace in the drink and he shut his head and started drinking. He didn’t think about anything. The bartender wanted to speak to him but he wouldn’t speak. He was baffled.

There was nothing he could do. He had to just get over her and move on.

Plenty of fish in the sea. But it’s never that easy is it?

THE END

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Deception Is Hell

Here they appear again

the demons, they envelop the brain

Confusing any ounce of sanity that used to be naturally present

Distortions of visual images

Distortions of sound vibrations in the air

oh, hell!

If there’s such a thing as hell

it needs to be this

A deception of the real world

A blockage to function

Unnecessary triggers and gradual increase in amplitude

Weakness in the reality;

Rightness in the wrong;

Believing in the non-existent; believing in the lies.

Deception is hell.

A form of psychedelia.

Be vigilant.

Fight against all odds.

Believe.

Anjuna

Living for Today

This poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti really strikes a chord with me. A friend sent me this poem on Facebook telling me to “live life today” and it made me think…..

A Daughter of Eve

A fool I was to sleep at noon,
And wake when night is chilly
Beneath the comfortless cold moon;
A fool to pluck my rose too soon,
A fool to snap my lily.

My garden-plot I have not kept;
Faded and all-forsaken,
I weep as I have never wept:
Oh it was summer when I slept,
It’s winter now I waken.

Talk what you please of future spring
And sun-warm’d sweet to-morrow:
Stripp’d bare of hope and everything,
No more to laugh, no more to sing,
I sit alone with sorrow.

There are many themes which can be attributed to this poem – including time, patience, love, anxiety and many more. When we do not make the most of the moment in which we are living – like NOW – then time really starts to fall behind us and there is no way to relive the moments just lost.

Living in the future or the past will not help the present. It is what we make of NOW that really matters.

I hate to break it to you but I haven’t made the most of the time I have had. I wish I did. I wish I knew how much each moment means because then I would grab each and every opportunity I had. But one of the beautiful thing about life is it is unpredictable and destiny seems to have it’s own way of reminding us to take the path we are destined to take.

I hope we can all make the most of today and the moments we have. Living for the now and here rather than for anything else

 

 

The art of writing

I received a comment from one of my followers a few days ago basically saying that my posts are not as ‘great’ as they were before or not as engrossing. What has happened? He asked. So this post is in reply to that comment. The exact comment was “Hey, you used to write great – I miss your super writings. Past few posts are just a little bit out of track! come on!”

Well, first off thank you for saying that some of my writings were “super” but I really don’t know where I got lost in the jungle of writing to make you feel that I’ve been out of track. I’ll try my best to get my “super” writing gear on. But unfortunately, realistically I do not think there is such a thing.

Sure, writing can be planned in that the author can decide exactly what to write and when. But, the author writes for his/her own will and not for the will of the others. As much as it is difficult to tell you what happened to my writing style, I feel I have matured a lot in my writing these past few months since I started to write professionally. However, blogging is different to professional writing and something I still have a lot to learn from.

Writing is an art. It is a creative process. Many times it is unstable and fluctuating – a little like a stock market. So when you asked me what happened to my writing, why I haven’t been as creative as I was before, to be honest the answer is I do not know and I can only guess.

I write for my own pleasures. Writing makes me happy – any type of writing makes me happy even this blog post is making me happy. That’s not to say I do not care for feedback because I do – for my own possible improvement.

Many years ago I used to fear the thought of writing a blog post or the thought of writing as an art. It took me a lot of inner struggle to locate myself as a writer. It’s something I do not want to give up on. It’s a type of emancipation, liberating myself from the fear. Telling or rather proving to myself that I can. I constantly can. It’s a form, it’s a process. Like everything it takes time.

Writing, like many other things can be a tedious and mundane task if you’re unsure of what to write about. A little like I am now. I haven’t really dug deep into myself to answer your question – which I think will reveal the best answer. I have been writing professional articles which is basically based on research. However, I’m not well versed with blogging. I’m quite new. I need some inputs and tips on how to be better.

More importantly I need to learn what kind of material really goes out there, markets itself. What stories do people really like? What do they not like? Does a post making it to the desired popularity level lead to a higher quality? I doubt it, but like I said I write for my own pleasure.

Do feel free to express your thoughts in the comments section below or to give me some helpful tips and inputs. 

Contentment

Part 1

There was a deep sense of contentment in him. He wasn’t married, hardly ever had a girlfriend, he was a 27 year old virgin. Yes, he’d had relationships of course but they never were successful enough to last. That was one of the sorrows he’d endured. He knew he would find someone. Maybe he would have to wait a long time, longer than most of his friends who were already married or had someone and were definitely not virgins. He had attracted all the things that had happened in his life. So, really, he had no one else to blame. He created his own life.

But nonetheless, he was satisfied. Very frighteningly satisfied with who he was. He could drink a cup of coffee, sit with himself for hours, go to a museum and still feel completely happy and joy for the way he lived his life. He was content but felt a pang of loneliness. Loneliness not because he felt lonely, but because of what other people might perceive him to be. He cared a lot about other people.

He had a dark past. The future he knew would get a lot better. He had amended his mistakes for the sins he had committed. Even though he always had problems with maintaining relationships he knew he would get there. Get to the place where most people feel happy in sharing secrets, sharing their life with others. He had a sense of hidden satisfaction, where he didn’t feel the need to share things with other people. He only had to share things with himself, and that made him happy. However, he still wanted to get married, he still wanted to have a wife, a soul-mate, SOMEBODY to call his own! Often he would sing the song “Can anybody find somebody for me” but only in the 4 walls of his room.

There she was. His soul-mate. He knew it, the minute he laid eyes on her that she was the one. They met by accident. But he had to wait, and waiting was something he detested. He hated waiting. I mean, who likes waiting? He had to make the right moves this time. He had to see that it works out.

Lets see what happens in the part 2…….