a new place to be

comfort zones are conflicting and claustrophobic. it is nice to step in the cold and wonder where to start a fire. 

when the truth is, I miss you

yes, prayer is right. in fact i've begun to believe that every single
act of ours is in one sense, a prayer - not to any specific deity, but
maybe in a more abstract sense to what the Greeks called eudaimonia,
the quest for happiness in our lives, our own and the lives of those
that are so closely intertwined with our own that the distinctions of
self and other cease to really matter. in most cases, and i'm
reasonably certain in ours as well, eudaimonia is to be sought in a
perfect admixture of chaos and order, and the moment one begins to
overwhelm the other, discomforts begin to manifest themselves. and so
it goes..

i keep logging into his accounts, filling his empty place with urgency...i cannot let the world just pass by without him ever knowing it..i see and feel for him and somewhere on a stranded cord he can hear me whisper.

soul searching

it seems so stupid not to know what your thoughts are. as if i have left my body and mind for someone else to mutiny. i rise above, not reaching beyond a strong current and look down my confused body, pitying its perplexity and shyness. like the town of varanasi, hanging on the trishul of lord shiva, not quite the earth or heaven and madness running via blind corners...i once espoused, "there is a spark of madness in all of us and we should never lose it"..i rethink now. those were the times of sensitive optimism..its all squared lines now..where you never lose your way...its only a question of choice in..well..a reality constituted by so many choices of so many body-mind like mine.

stubborn optimism

on new year's day the world was bleak as ever but i sent wishes out to a world which was stuck on stubborn optimism. like the golden age of grotesque, or tuned into the love ballads of kurt cobain.

and yet, with more songs than ever, the damn world refuses to realise the beginning of chaos and end of GOd