On the last day of the first month of the New Year, I'm coming up with this piece. 2013 took its toll in teaching me Self Indulgence. Everything else was bred by the self indulgence. Rationale, reason & logic.
It's so amusing i,m unable to pick up words for this piece. I guess i maybe too sucked in by professional writing & the personal side almost turned dead. I have gradually imbibed all the virtues to be an acceptable person. Though I place myself at a convenient distances from the virtual herds of people fighting among themselves for attention on the internet, I figured out 'how much' connection seems sufficed.
There is this arguably strange thing that the universe throws at you; a little unambitious people call it Destiny; I am one among them, as a matter of fact. It seems like it defies the laws & leaves you naked; testing your mettle.
Being bred in an industrious environment, I believed 'Striving' as an elemental virtue that demonstrates one's character. Because of aging, like it did what it usually does to men, I've become unassuming; and the change in definition: I believe its 'hanging around' that truly tests one.
I barbed about the smart, had problems with personal success. I no longer do. When there's a hot mug of coffee placed in front of you & somebody's saying words behind you, I nurtured the capability to press things (words) remain behind.
The little consciousness that aesthetics deserve, I devote; though not more that what they deserve. I can take it now when somebody quotes a rosy line from a long forgotten movie though it seems inconsequential.
Like a jinx, I am writing this & my pen seems to cooperate only in breaks and pieces. No petulance, mind you. I scribble. It resumes its flow and I write.
While pressure to make peace with peers is overwhelmingly consuming at times, I somehow manage to stay intact.
It's so amusing i,m unable to pick up words for this piece. I guess i maybe too sucked in by professional writing & the personal side almost turned dead. I have gradually imbibed all the virtues to be an acceptable person. Though I place myself at a convenient distances from the virtual herds of people fighting among themselves for attention on the internet, I figured out 'how much' connection seems sufficed.
There is this arguably strange thing that the universe throws at you; a little unambitious people call it Destiny; I am one among them, as a matter of fact. It seems like it defies the laws & leaves you naked; testing your mettle.
Being bred in an industrious environment, I believed 'Striving' as an elemental virtue that demonstrates one's character. Because of aging, like it did what it usually does to men, I've become unassuming; and the change in definition: I believe its 'hanging around' that truly tests one.
I barbed about the smart, had problems with personal success. I no longer do. When there's a hot mug of coffee placed in front of you & somebody's saying words behind you, I nurtured the capability to press things (words) remain behind.
The little consciousness that aesthetics deserve, I devote; though not more that what they deserve. I can take it now when somebody quotes a rosy line from a long forgotten movie though it seems inconsequential.
Like a jinx, I am writing this & my pen seems to cooperate only in breaks and pieces. No petulance, mind you. I scribble. It resumes its flow and I write.
While pressure to make peace with peers is overwhelmingly consuming at times, I somehow manage to stay intact.
