Today's yesterday

Pockets of self stored  

in a well kept book

in corners of a wall display

on small note pads

and half rooms

Silently expressed 

in display backgrounds

printed poems

hanged displays

and curated playlists of first time songs and movies

carefully preserved on drive

Bursting at the seams 

eager to find 

and happy to share 

Fresh face, big world, make a mark and make it good.

Things and things

Nothing draws you closer than the need to explore and make sense of the point. Nevertheless, we fill in things. to do, to think, to be in.. to fill a lil.

Learn percussion or any string instrument

Think and write about echo chambers, data manipulation, changing mind with the ruse of rousing emotions

Take photos of macro

Kabir's poems and feeling their strength and meaning

Advaitha

Philosophical approaches that make you wonder 

Philosophical approaches that make you feel calm 

Philosophical approaches that make you still live this life

Poetry

Learn leather craft

Learn pottery

Stay for at least 15 days alone in an unknown location

 

Attempts at lighter

The day is too dense with resolutions and pledges. The day is too thick to move in, with the invisible push of have to-s and to do-s. 

Reckless abandon? Maybe not, but go easy my friend. Go gentle.
Breathe out into the wild expanse of everyday, wherever it might be.

Laugh a little, cry a little, let go and love a little. It's all nearest to the heart but let it beat too :) 

Moment

The moment makes me.

The moment, when head is in peace and feet grounded

When breath feels lighter, is it delirious? 

When tightened body feels the surety of life, is it grasping?

Is ecstasy and incoherence the same?

Is euphoria and hysteria the same?

When head is in peace but not in thin air, there's the difference

When feet are grounded but not bound, there's the difference

1002

Does it matter what I say?

Does it matter that it’s different?

Have weighed and waited,

For spells and years

Until it’s become second nature

To stall.

Nothing’s so simple

It hurts like a burnt blunt sickle

Cuts and slices, in all the hidden corners

I have never known love like yours,

Don’t think I ever will

Still there’s a heart to spill,

With no penance or prompt

I’m sorry it hurts

I’m sorry I’m the one who is hurting

I wish loving was enough

I wish being loved was enough

Still, if someone had said love doesn’t solve all, I wouldn’t have believed it.

Of all the things that cloud, darkest have been the closed eyes.

Empty shell

Struck by force, 

moulded by fire

Empty shell

Tough on surface

Coldest to cold

Hollow to knock

Impervious to fight

Warmth in touch

Turns to fire

Melts and chips

Surface sweats

Twists and turns 

What remains?

In and Out

The spirit wonders from time to time. 

Wandering in and out, with flashes of light. 

The bright sky, is it perfectly blue? 

The peeking light, is it inviting warmth? 

The twinkle in the eyes, the smile on the lips.. inward or outward?

.. The spirit wanders in and out, with little to say and barely to stay.