I want to write today about

I want to write today about many of my confusions of knowing things.
I want to write about the silence of not knowing what to say?
when you want to say a lot and quickly!


 I want to write about how it is impossible to put a patten onto your life and then live it, knowing the limits.


 I want to to write about making a choice and going at it head on and not changing, not thinking about the lose ends. 


I want to to write about making  another mess and another mess and leaving it at a mess up , for what I have done enough in this mess I live to experiment, and I'm not yet sure it was something I regret .




I want to to write about  the intense dissatisfaction I have in me ,being myself, and being myself in the lives of people 


Today, to write anything, is to put down my worry, my frown, that cold shiver that went down my spine when I thought of how I loved and hated, of how I live in a country with a billion people who similarly love and hate and WHO SIMILARLY wake up early in the morning and are bleeding internally, or having their breakfast and leaving in a hurry, or just are reading the newspaper . Of these people, the ones I know, what have I done in their lives? 


I want to write about thinking creativity..
when,Nothing is original anymore, it is theory of 're-usability' that rules the world.
when i talk about re-usability , am saying about going back to old things and start using it again.Talking about all the X things,  X-Crush,X-friend, X-boyfriend..old jeans,old memories + blah...where do you place yourself ? 


when you feel you belong nowhere!
sometimes you are just not fit for anything ..not even for yr clothes !


what is that feeling like ?
May be it tastes like hell!


what should you to do for fun ?
when u leave in a place where fun tends to be either  illegal, expensive, or far away? 


what do you say to yourself ?
when such rubbish the mind makes!

what if you collected everything that makes love,that you love, that feels love,would it be love?

and then if someone found it

rotting years later in the box in your bed,

would they find love?

and if you forgot about it

and thought you lost it

and then suddenly remembered

where its been, would it be

lost and found love?

is life like this?

like language?

where a word here or there

makes a huge difference

to the sense it makes...what do you do?

well may be for me ..i write.. Sigh!!