Go away.

This blog might die of a natural death sometime soon. Absolutely wilting. I’m writing about nothing, nothing’s reading. My life is almost checkmate guys. Checkmate, and getting pretty stale on the way there too. I feel like this place is going to look exactly like Napoleon Dynamite if it had a face.

Can’t imagine having to say goodbye to C. She’s taken to switching off her mobile pretty regularly – she whom I’ve grown to depend and rely upon in Melb.  I’m frustrated when I cannot reach her. But I understand why I cannot get her to switch it back on. Its her way of coping. Because eventually, sometime soon too, my number will cease to flash on her phone. With some people, goodbyes are just such dramas.

What’s next? I don’t know. I might close this blog. Its irritating the hell out of me.  All fluff, no stuff. Don’t you feel like you’re reading foam? You think you’re onto something and then by the time you get to the end of my entry- you forget what my post is about anyway. You forget what I am about anyway.  See. You’re trying to recall what you’ve just read for the past two paras. You can’t remember a thing. Bugger the petty self confession genre. Doesn’t work for me ever.

Filed under: cringes

spot of inspiration

Loving this piece of non-fiction by it’s 15th page – The Happiest Man In The World: The Life of Poppo Neutrino by Alec Wilkinson.

I am in love with Poppo Neutrino’s understanding of his existence. It is a concept called ‘Triads’ developed over years (Neutrino is seventy-four) of reading and reflection. The key to happiness, the lotus to nirvana, the way out of this maze- ‘for each person to be truly happy, the person must define his or her three deepest desires and pursue them remorselessly.‘

Read more of the blurb and check out some of the quotes from the first fifteen pages.

Filed under: written word

what if you were me?

What would you do if you were to find yourself on a big open field, lit ever so dimly by twilight?

Me, I would have the most lush, dark and magnificent blanket tonight,  in bed with nature as a child of the heavens above .

What would you do if you were to find yourself walking down rows and rows of empty supermarket aisles, across rows and rows of empty supermarket shelves?

Me? I will climb up to the highest shelf, thereafter squeeze myself in and then proclaim in a shrill to only static, By choice fellas, by choice.

What would you do if you were to find yourself para-gliding so close to the sun, you inhale its crackling heat and suffocate in its draughty fumes?

Me… I would go closer, only to melt in embrace- satisfied that my existence will be a self-worthy legend, my life of passion well-lived.

Filed under: quirks, written word