If I ever forget, I hope I am reminded how I feel right now

I see how I am about to get more entangled in the wordly affairs of my affairs and worlds which are more than intertwined than ever...

I know of bank balances

I know of unworthy expenses

I know of things that I want to afford

I know of things I can afford

I know of things I cannot afford

Too much coiny noise as these thoughts fall in my head, one by one, coin by coin, almost giving me a headache.

It will never be enough.

If I am done with my list, it will be only for the moment.

All the worries in the world will always be there...let's see how we can make the most of the in betweens.

I want to make the worries seem petty

I want to make the worries worth it

I want to make the happiness worth it

Yours naively Optimist

Talking conversation- Beauty

And I asked myself, how do people make beatuiful things.

And I told myself, may be beutiful people make things which turn out beatuiful because they are made by beautiful thoughts?

ANd then I thought, people just make things, and they could be beautiful to me or you.

And there would be things that people wanting to be beautiful, and hence the thought, the will nurtures it into something beautiful.

I asked myself, why do I want to create something something?

No answer for a long while...

Who would you want(really) for it to look beautiful to ? ( could be a grammatical error there)

Hesitating to answer....

Ok! What if you have created something beautiful ?

I would feel happy I guess.

How would you know it's beautiful?

ummm...When others tell me that it's beautiful, i guess...ummm

Sometimes, I love what I make...and it's beautiful to me..

Is it enough that I see the beauty and no one else does?

Ummm...depends, sometimes I don't even want to share with anyone what I have made.

But ya, it's nice when people like it too...it's like sharing something nice with everyone..and anyone , it kind of connects you with the people who might have something common with you....since you seem to have the similar liking to start with...

What is 'beauty'?

Hard to define.....think it could be relative sometimes....so when you think something is beautiful...it could mean I have never seen anything like this before. Beauty could be the best possible imaginable way that the creator has put out...something which you could not think about or beyond. Beauty could be an interpretation of a thought that never occurred to me. But I guess a flower can be beautiful inspite of the fact that there is nothing new about it. Beauty to me could be sheer appreciation or actualization or coming into being what something is potential of...It's a like a paper and a pencil...when a beautiful sketch is made...its realization of the fact...that something is created out of mediums which would be independently be redundant in a way...so it could be appreciation of the actualization of the numerous possibilities. Beauty has to be in my mind, for me to realize something is beautiful...Beauty is I think inside me...I think...but that way, it means that everything to me should look beautiful? But if I do not have beauty inside...how will see it? and obviously Beauty is subjective, but that is a characteristic more than answering what beauty is. Beauty is also in a way a calling? to show you the path to realize something that you enjoy....to help connect oneself....the very fact that we find something beautiful, according to me comes because you connect to something. Beauty could be a mere reflection of my thoughts...

Hmmm sometimes, beauty is something I feel that I cannot create, as in, something that I feel I am not capable of creating...

Okay, may be try to twist the question, Why do i like what I like?

Longggg pause, partly because i cannot concentrate for too long :-/ and party because I am trying to get rid of my habit to pluck split ends in my hair, and the more i try, the more i remember it, the more i do, the more i try to stop...and it turns into a vicious little distraction.

..>Still trying to break the thought process...

A cone in a cone

Flying in shapes that form to begin
Softening edges drying beyond
Sharpening a vision
Caressing the noises
Hushing the screaming stories
Often touched by featured softness
Often fallen, broken, torn
Stitching and clinging
Leaving and living
Far and stretched
Hazed and sound
Furry and delight
Like Ice cream in fright
I feel it all together
For all it smells is sweet
How matter integrates to disintegrate..
and form to deform
We make stories all along
melting again and beyond
An Ice cream to be
thoughts frozen somewhere
relish and yumm
would be ...should be...

Quilling spree

Well after a long time got crafting, not that I had anything so pretty earlier. A colleague introduced me to this almost miniature paper craft factory!!

About to scatter

A feeling like the glass would feel
before it would sliver into pieces beyond
a count of thousand miles
away from itself when it would all fall apart

A shiver in the eyes
of the evil mind
before it commits the hideous crime
for all you know that is only in his mind

A loud shouting call
before you are about
to rust in that mark
that you would be shameful about

About to break
you try to piece them together
but pieces they are
already fragmented
all ready broken
is the thought
is the heart

To find
you have lose yourself
to figure our
you have to define
words fly all across
and thoughts are crawling
hidden and playing
folly and teasing

I in I

enough of times of tying around
enough it is to mellow down
hanging out loud and out
wanting and not wanting to be figured out.

Knock each nut
crush each thought
to remain in seclusion
to remain in remains

no windows
no clouds
around me
and me around

Asking myself
Have I found
Asking them
Have I been found


Tossing in an orbit
of constant doubt
knowing unkowing
Hoping to tread out

To choose the way
looking for direction
To know the answer
looking for questions

How the loud silence erodes
bit by bit
pie by pie
uff, where is the I in I.


I is almost i.e
That, that is
and that, that is not.

I miss you, full stop not comma

I hate to miss you

and then you keep coming by

in those fonts

and in those colours

You must have been a magician

playing your disappearing acts

loving applauds of sweet kinds

but what about the sweeter kinds?

I count on the moving buses

looking for faces that almost look like you

I search and sigh

I know I wouldnt find you

Inching thoughts of your day

I wonder why you are so far away

I design and structure my thoughts

to fit in some logical answer

How I would sulk

how I wouldn't even mind

I juggle moods in a second

As soon as I see you

No pinks no purples

I like when you are not around

They all fade a shade

that's when I know

I do, I miss you

Not caressed, not seen

those moods fly in my time

die a sweet death

when you make me smile

Times when you are here

but only in thoughts

there is a spot so vacant

waiting to be occupied

Waiting dot

Waiting commas

Waiting rests in my letters

Waiting rests in my eyes

Told and untold

but it's always there

Too used to

Too love in to

I would declare a war one day

Not wave or smile

if you came my way

but imagine of the misery

If i miss even when you are to stay

How much i would miss if you were gone away....

--

Divya

Begin doing what you want to do now. We are not living in eternity.

We have only this moment, sparkling like a star in our hand-and melting

like a snowflake...” ~ Francis Bacon Sr.

Hazy Moon and lazy nights

Hazy Moon and lazy nights
twisting heads in traffic as they go by
a halt at the red is all you need
thank god for signals and that speed

A moment to spare to look at the time
you would have the second to see another second
what keeps you so busy i ask
not that a clock would have a better answer

We tread so much like it
same paths, same ways, same pace, same place?
randomize the moods,
and you see there good times and better ones

Clicking and picking
picking and clicking
Doing and undoing
undoing and doing.

I kid not,
for this is what we do.
and hazy moons and lazy nights
do this to me from time to time..


They trip me, they fall me
I almost look like a fool
For they dont see, what cam I do ?
the hazy moons and lazy nights

As random as it can get

What I call Desire

Around and beyond a voice
is a whisper that cannot talk
and as it triggers a notion in my head
I move two stops not knowing to where
these sounds they come and go abrupt
illogical streams of motion they are
they are forever lost and thought
they are desires, never cared for
a glimpse of what you cannot see
a moment of what you cannot be
sheer existence how I describe
is so much to do with what i desire
I ask myself the questions that are same
and answers that are given always change
if time is moving
Am I not?
What have to seize
That i have not?
I ask myself the questions that are same
and answers that are given always change