I think that my reluctance to blog regularly will save me from my own feelings and from occupying space in the social order. Of course, that is happening only in my mind. I want to save myself from voicing the fact that I know we are living through collapse of society around us, however the... Continue Reading →
I bring out an old bottle of transparent nail varnish and polish my nails with it to dissuade myself from biting my nails close to the skin. It hurts when I touch the keyboard, wash the thousandth vessel of the day, and when I accidentally graze my hands against the desk. I pray with the... Continue Reading →
There I was sitting on the floor of a cold corridor having had my second anxiety attack. It was 3:00am back home in India and the kindest man I know was on the phone with me listening to me crying as I was unable to breathe. It must have been 4 degrees that night, the... Continue Reading →
Whenever a person hurts his eyes unite with his suffering to observe carefully the dropped and scattered pain that was obliged to be seen drawn opened and the source of broken reason to live.
John Steinbeck's novel, The Grapes of Wrath has been lying on my table(s) for a few weeks now. It's a long read, punctuated with lots of dust, chapters that scribble a picture from words, and slowly describe the migration of the Joad family. According to a Brainpicking's post, Steinbeck kept a diary while writing this... Continue Reading →
It has been an absolutely awful day. Nothing could salvage it - not a walk near a fountain, not the butterscotch ice cream, and not even french fries. In the larger scheme of things, I know that it won't matter and this day will be inconsequential. That I didn't pick up the threads and tie... Continue Reading →
Because somethings need to be preserved in a space where I can easily find them. It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing. It doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to... Continue Reading →
When it doesn't fit in your grasp and it doesn't keep your hold. When it doesn't stay inside your reach, and it doesn't feel as whole. When it doesn't mind itself with you, and abounds adrift and free. Just let it go my friend, how can you ever catch the breeze? -Sameen
amarllyis 