In a creative writing class I once took, a friend wrote, "When I was 17, I thought I knew it all. When I was 20, I was sure I had it figured all out. Now I'm 22, and I have no clue about anything."
It wasn't a self-aggrandizing rhapsody she made up to gain a better grade. Itwas is the solemn truth that leads the catacombic battles of our lives.
After four years of journalistic reporting, it is hard for me to waste words. I don't know how good or bad that is, but I have dissuaded myself from circumventing and wasting precious words to communicate.
I am a simple person. Beauty moves me. Colors, light, water and sound enchant me. There's love in my life and little struggles that remind me how cherished I am. I have dreams, most of which I am living or on my way to achieving. I have another blog where I write about stuff that interests me. So when I return to this blog, religiously, every night - I stare at the blank screen scratching my head wondering what I should write.
I think, when you are in a comfortable spot, the area around your mind gets all warm and fuzzy. So cozy that you don't really want to move from there. Some of my most poignant writing came when I was living alone in NY last year under terrible conditions. Before that, I could write up a whale when I was so completely bewitched by my lonliness and desolate-ness. And now, my life is fabuluous. Absolutely, fantastically, fabulous. So what do I write about?!
Maybe I can put up a prayer, wish well for all the people in my life and request God to keep them safe and happy. Even then, a (wonderful!) uplifting spirit/voice tells me that even if things were to change with my life and it wasn't to remain so fabulous - I still wouldn't have much left to talk about!
Round and round, I keep concluding this one thing : Nothing lasts forever in life and if something does, it isn't meant to be questioned.
The kind of writing that comes out of pure, unadulterated happiness is something no one wants to read. But thats how my life is - and let me stress on the fact (yes, it is a fact) that I have earned it. I have given/sacrificied/spent/ - pick your choice of word - 4 years to loudly, happily, claim that I need a bouncy, new, soft mattress and a strong, unattainable challenge to live for- just so that I can write about it!
I have become a very rational and practical person over the years. There won't be any sob-fests here. There won't be any soul-shattering, deeply touching, life changing blog entries here. But you are welcome to visit if you want to share my adventures/surprises/missives/expectations of living in fascinating cities, with amazing friends and a sexy career!
It snow-dropped (snowdrops are not completely snow and not completely rain, somewhere undefined, in between the two consistencies!) in Philly, btw. I have a beautiful view from my window where I can see shiny cars in the parking lot bathed in the ethreal yellow glow of the street-lights and blanketed in a thin sheet of powdery snow. As it melts, the car windows glisten in the night-light and endear the view to me even more.
Cira center- a new building adorning Philly's skyline (that looks like it came out straight out of Altantic City's purple-lit Borgata casino) stays awake with me at nights. I type, read and write. And the building throws off little blue pellets of it's dancing lights that reflect on my glass windows.
Let the fabulous-ness begin!
It wasn't a self-aggrandizing rhapsody she made up to gain a better grade. It
After four years of journalistic reporting, it is hard for me to waste words. I don't know how good or bad that is, but I have dissuaded myself from circumventing and wasting precious words to communicate.
I am a simple person. Beauty moves me. Colors, light, water and sound enchant me. There's love in my life and little struggles that remind me how cherished I am. I have dreams, most of which I am living or on my way to achieving. I have another blog where I write about stuff that interests me. So when I return to this blog, religiously, every night - I stare at the blank screen scratching my head wondering what I should write.
I think, when you are in a comfortable spot, the area around your mind gets all warm and fuzzy. So cozy that you don't really want to move from there. Some of my most poignant writing came when I was living alone in NY last year under terrible conditions. Before that, I could write up a whale when I was so completely bewitched by my lonliness and desolate-ness. And now, my life is fabuluous. Absolutely, fantastically, fabulous. So what do I write about?!
Maybe I can put up a prayer, wish well for all the people in my life and request God to keep them safe and happy. Even then, a (wonderful!) uplifting spirit/voice tells me that even if things were to change with my life and it wasn't to remain so fabulous - I still wouldn't have much left to talk about!
Round and round, I keep concluding this one thing : Nothing lasts forever in life and if something does, it isn't meant to be questioned.
The kind of writing that comes out of pure, unadulterated happiness is something no one wants to read. But thats how my life is - and let me stress on the fact (yes, it is a fact) that I have earned it. I have given/sacrificied/spent/ - pick your choice of word - 4 years to loudly, happily, claim that I need a bouncy, new, soft mattress and a strong, unattainable challenge to live for- just so that I can write about it!
I have become a very rational and practical person over the years. There won't be any sob-fests here. There won't be any soul-shattering, deeply touching, life changing blog entries here. But you are welcome to visit if you want to share my adventures/surprises/missives/expectations of living in fascinating cities, with amazing friends and a sexy career!
It snow-dropped (snowdrops are not completely snow and not completely rain, somewhere undefined, in between the two consistencies!) in Philly, btw. I have a beautiful view from my window where I can see shiny cars in the parking lot bathed in the ethreal yellow glow of the street-lights and blanketed in a thin sheet of powdery snow. As it melts, the car windows glisten in the night-light and endear the view to me even more.
Cira center- a new building adorning Philly's skyline (that looks like it came out straight out of Altantic City's purple-lit Borgata casino) stays awake with me at nights. I type, read and write. And the building throws off little blue pellets of it's dancing lights that reflect on my glass windows.
Let the fabulous-ness begin!
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