Profile


Me

I'm a practical dreamer.
(this is not as contradictory as it seems)


I like the crisp smell of freshly printed paper (and the corresponding sound of pen scratching ink on paper),cold temperatures when the sun is out, long and invigorating discourse, shopping at quaint, old-world boutiques, playing with poker cards at any kind of game (excluding Solitaire,while I honestly prefer all the variants of Bridge), and walking, just sauntering aimlessly (but contentedly); indulging in the sights and sounds around me, encasing them in the multi-faceted tapestry of sheer sensation-

Audentes Fortuna Iuvat.
-Virgil, The Aeneid

therefore I am vulnerable no more
Saturday, December 24, 2011

I wait, as ever- for a sign, for the continuation of what I truly yearn for/have yearned for, so badly
(Yes, I do quite believe, with absolute certainty, that I'm ready to fall in love again, once more- in proper style- although I do value quiet, interpersed moments the most)

I wait, oh- I wait

A good beginning, a good one (finally, praise the Lord), but after everything- wisdom first, then impulsivity, at the right time!

audax at fidelis- with regards to my endeavours (Bold, but faithful)

and

beatus homo qui invenit sapientiam (blessed is the man who finds wisdom!)

---------------------------

I think I've regained all that I've lost- only that my purpose is completely, and utterly realigned. Otherwise,almost everything else seems to have regained its sense of normalcy in my life.

There's an added subtlety to it all- which makes me so, so joyous, and life is completely worth living now

One thing, I do concur- despite my proficiency with words, I can't find the right depth of words to express how I feel openly- everything sounds so falsified, so superficial, when spoken in sibiliant sound publicly- it feels like a masquerade, a show- a mere play, put on for the sake of the audience.

Privacy, oh sweet privacy, in open sunlight, under the sky!

I dislike masquerades, because they twist truth with a layer of superficiality, of falsity-this distorts the sincerity, the honest, heartfelt feelings that make the world spin, which darkens all the rainbows in the sky, all the sunrises and sunsets- which are the quintessential metaphors of beauty ; I can't quite explain it in words, but I try, I try
2:56 AM
History.is.bunk

December 2011 January 2012 February 2012


Outgoing

I'm far too lazy, alas!



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