Sunday, February 24, 2013

Transit of darkness.

When one is suffering from a writer's block, words just refuses to get out and I am having the worst form of it. The words are escaping me, and I feel like a complete illiterate trying to catch up with them. Trust me, I have tried a couple of times to write something but the words gather at the slowest speed and I get frustrated. Even now, I just want to shut this page down, crawl into my bed and watch a movie that shouldn't have been made in the first place. I am trying ways to open my mind; I tried reading but all I have been reading, plays almost zero relevance to the deep-emotional-inspirational articles I really need to immerse myself in.  Polls on who Kardashian-West baby's look take after and a lot of askmen on how to make a lady orgasm and even weird ones like how to fake a male orgasm, won't do much for me at the end of the day but I couldn't stop myself from opening yet another bubble-gum news. And honestly, why would men need to fake an orgasm? That makes everything statistically wrong (Aren't men like some sort of overachievers capable of reaching the toe-curling-head-out-of-space sensation every single time?), unless, of course, in cases when they have been having sex with another woman and then coming back home to another woman as guilty as one can be, but not having the heart to hurt her and he doesn't have enough load and energy. (And yes, I have also been reading up on cheating spouses, because I found myself stumbling upon huffingtonpost's divorce section).

I am in this transitional period of some sort where I feel like a caterpillar in a cocoon. I am changing, slowly, as a individual, as a writer, as a dreamer and as a realist. I am changing into another person, different from whom I am familiar with. It is like a fresh new haircut, you don't like but after a few weeks of growth, you can't stop obsessing about how the layers of the hair is finally falling into place but right now, I am still at the phrase of hating it but I know I will eventually like it or I can always go for yet another haircut to correct all the cuts ruining it. My thoughts are incomprehensible, I can't even hear myself talk and I have lost signals with my inner self and my heart and mind are forks apart, after a narrow road. And everyone knows when you can't feel, listen and know a single thing that is happening in the chambers of the souls, you are just stuck in a rut until for sometime or maybe a long time. I am in a transit of darkness. I feel like a caterpillar about to morph into a butterfly but, a stiff fear of becoming a moth is painfully scary.


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