"What can we gain by sailing to the moon if we are not able to cross the abyss that separates us from ourselves?"

Thomas Merton

Why are you here.

Round spirals of heat,
all moving towards me.
I wish I could move away but I'm frozen.
Any minute these spirals will come tumbling down to slash my flesh,
break my bones, and boil my blood...
How long can this mechanical body withstand reality.

I almost know where I can find myself..
I feel like I'm getting closer each day,
I can hear myself breathing again,
I thought I lost my voice,
But I hear myself calling out to me,
leading me to where I am.
I walk in the darkness of a small room,
moving towards the corner, even though I can't distinguish the edges from the walls,
I can hear myself breathing.
Soon I'll find myself sitting in the corner, soon I can touch the walls,
soon I can get up and be brave enough to escape.
Don't you know I was born to be free.
I was.
I was... and I will be.

If I hold my breath for a million years, little oyster
waiting my tables, fighting the tide, swimming to hope
and still I can't open you up, love
I'll marry the fat red tomato
I got from an infatuated farmer who waits pleasantly
with knife and fork, to eat me...

"Beyond this vale of tears
There is a life above,
Unmeasured by the flight of years;
And all that life is love."

And if the journey gets too harsh,
I'd paint the roads in pretty pastels.

"The human father has to be confronted and recognized as human, as man who created a child and then, by his absence, left the child fatherless and then Godless."
Anais Nin

"The beautiful bird gets caged." - Chinese proverb

Welcome to the house of untimely deaths..
You're about to experience life through the eyes of a blindman.

I DON'T WRITE FOR YOU

I don't. I don't write for me either. I don't write for the sake of writing.

I don't know why I write. That too, inconsistently..foolishly, with errors, without logic.

But this isn't the real world. I can write here. I can write whatever I want, I'm free. My words aren't read much, let alone understood. And I don't whine for understanding. Even I don't understand myself, my actions, my behavior.

Who cares about me? There's a gigantic world out there..

What does the good life look like?

Is there any such thing at all.. can life be described through good and bad alone.

What do you call this life that you're living.. can you think of a name for it. I wonder how we can name our children, when we give them life.. and not be able to give our lives a name. So maybe if I'm Amrita, my life's name would be Amrita.

I don't know where the thoughts come from.

What do you say to someone who says, "I don't know who I am".

I haven't been able to talk lately. How I usually talk. And I tell myself it's one of my usual mood swings. Nothing important, nothing worth writing about. Still, I don't know why I'm writing about it today.

I feel like escaping. Again. Even though I know it's not possible..it's not real. There is no escape.


But how do you kill a wish.

This is a joke !

What I should do with my life

Break away.

But then what.

It'll still be called living.

Living freely. Living in chains.


Doesn't matter.

And they showed her
a beautiful house...



on the planet Mars.



And they said,
"Come and live here forever."



And the young girl said...



"Oh, Mars is a planet
where life's different...



safe, clean and pretty."



But... But how do you get there?



Where do you find a taxi?
Which bus do you take?



Right? And how do you know
you're there when you're there?