solitude

It makes me mad. I cannot belive this. After writing down all my thoughts which i know will never come back, it all got deleted, have no clue how. I hate it.


Disgusting and perhaps more than it. Thoughts are perhas one of the things that do not and cannot be poduced in the exact same manner over and over again.

Its fall break and while i get time to be myself, hid away from the class and the projects, am enjoying my own time. While i always think, where to write down my thoughts , in my diary that i have maintained for years now or here, it is a technical disadvatange writing here. Like had my entire 40 minutes of writing all deleted in one stroke

Still mad at it getting lost. but then i enjoyed the weather today. Always love the lonely walks amidst the nature. It is calming and thoughtful enough. yest, in the fight to write it dwon or not, most of them get lost. Lost forever.

It is tiring to see the alphabets pop up in black and whites always. It is rather a dictated life of what i have to think. I love it doing my way. and am glad, i got the chance to pick up some great books from the libraray, something i am familiar with. something that gives me the freedom to read or not read.

The walks are good enough to inject thoughts that are worth keeping, yet they disappear mostly. The idea of keeping them seems not so in affirmation, they just happen to vanish from nowhere.

It is the sky and the nature, the loneliness and the monotony of steps falling one by one that weaves the unconsciuos thoughts, something i can truly claim to. No wonder writers and poets lived in places of natural beauty and changed places once they thought the well of inspiration has dried out.

As i stretch here in the bed with my laptop, inclined on my double pillow, have my books in the bed side table beside me............it is nothing but bliss. the half lighted room, the slow burning of the vanilla candle, the bakground of the televison running in the living room entwines with the music in my laptop, creates its own symphony.

It is freedom.........to think, to create and visualize and then have it all lost in a wink. It just wont go away, the power and satisfaction of writing dwon the thoughts. who is more blessed................wordsworth or j.k. rowling? or just the next door Jane, who writes in her own journal and dreams .......sitting beside her open window................