Dear Diary,
It is unusual today that I am addressing it to you before penning down my thoughts. You see, today I don’t want to talk to myself but somewhere, these overflowing thoughts have to go…
The subtle thinking yet overflowing, rather I would say the thinking stimulated by the feelings. Today I went through myriad emotions which kept me highly engrossed because too many streams of reception and production simply… not simply, but complicatedly brimmed upto the level from where it seemed easier to pour out. I have to make lesser effort now to tilt the glass of my bubbling feelings because its fullness to the brim prevents from further tilting and the words pour out effortlessly.
I couldn’t stop the Champagne which is bubbling within me and it is absolutely like Champagne because I have never tasted champagne and neither do I know how am I feeling.but I just felt like bringing it out since it is too much bottled inside me.
Well, what I just did, I couldn’t stop myself, and then further couldn’t stop myself from introspection.
My forconceit about myself doesn’t come along with the reality. If ‘reality’ is what I can call it. The very act of penning down my notion has somewhat reduced it,but…
And that’s why now I am thinking again what I should think as if ‘to think’ are like pebbles which have to be put into the pot to bring up the level to the brim again. So now I need to pebble down some ‘to think ’s into my Champagne bottle inorder to taste the feelings that I am going through.
Sometimes, I am quiet and I like it when I am quiet and many times I speak when I don’t know where I am. The shifting boundaries and shapes of the self, as created by the self make the situation more plane.
How to spell, plain or plane?
By plain(or plane) , do I mean smooth, if smooth then is it going smooth?
No?
Yes.
No!
May be yes…
Am I going into some depth? Into which core am I going? Do I have any depth ? Am I deep within?
How does it matter. ‘matter’, that’s what I mean?
So, matter again… that’s what matters.
Am I writing too muchor I mean , am I thinking too much? Why am I introspecting? Am I really introspecting?
Well, I am unable to answer these questions myself, that’s not my job… atleast not right now. Otherwise I will be prejudicing the taste of my Champagne and may be I refuse to drink it then!
But drinking, drinking it to myself? Again?
Then, where does it go… again back to the self?
Oh I am too much absorbed and soaking myself to myself.
May be nobody would like its taste. So, do I have to drink it all by myself. Nobody to share the Champagne? Well, the glass is mine , the bottle is mine, the champagne is mine, so it all goes back to me.
The diary is mine, the thoughts are mine, so all goes back to me.
Enclosure of my thoughts
It is unusual today that I am addressing it to you before penning down my thoughts. You see, today I don’t want to talk to myself but somewhere, these overflowing thoughts have to go…
The subtle thinking yet overflowing, rather I would say the thinking stimulated by the feelings. Today I went through myriad emotions which kept me highly engrossed because too many streams of reception and production simply… not simply, but complicatedly brimmed upto the level from where it seemed easier to pour out. I have to make lesser effort now to tilt the glass of my bubbling feelings because its fullness to the brim prevents from further tilting and the words pour out effortlessly.
I couldn’t stop the Champagne which is bubbling within me and it is absolutely like Champagne because I have never tasted champagne and neither do I know how am I feeling.but I just felt like bringing it out since it is too much bottled inside me.
Well, what I just did, I couldn’t stop myself, and then further couldn’t stop myself from introspection.
My forconceit about myself doesn’t come along with the reality. If ‘reality’ is what I can call it. The very act of penning down my notion has somewhat reduced it,but…
And that’s why now I am thinking again what I should think as if ‘to think’ are like pebbles which have to be put into the pot to bring up the level to the brim again. So now I need to pebble down some ‘to think ’s into my Champagne bottle inorder to taste the feelings that I am going through.
Sometimes, I am quiet and I like it when I am quiet and many times I speak when I don’t know where I am. The shifting boundaries and shapes of the self, as created by the self make the situation more plane.
How to spell, plain or plane?
By plain(or plane) , do I mean smooth, if smooth then is it going smooth?
No?
Yes.
No!
May be yes…
Am I going into some depth? Into which core am I going? Do I have any depth ? Am I deep within?
How does it matter. ‘matter’, that’s what I mean?
So, matter again… that’s what matters.
Am I writing too muchor I mean , am I thinking too much? Why am I introspecting? Am I really introspecting?
Well, I am unable to answer these questions myself, that’s not my job… atleast not right now. Otherwise I will be prejudicing the taste of my Champagne and may be I refuse to drink it then!
But drinking, drinking it to myself? Again?
Then, where does it go… again back to the self?
Oh I am too much absorbed and soaking myself to myself.
May be nobody would like its taste. So, do I have to drink it all by myself. Nobody to share the Champagne? Well, the glass is mine , the bottle is mine, the champagne is mine, so it all goes back to me.
The diary is mine, the thoughts are mine, so all goes back to me.
Enclosure of my thoughts
