On Understanding Itself...

This blog is totally dedicated to my perception of the fathomable LIFE!

Grass is important, Grass grows everywhere, Grass is the most simplest of the things and the most common too, Grass makes a dry land look like a pleasant delight to the eyes, it invites people to get earthed with cushion, protecting it from the harsh terrain of the earth, grass elicits dignity in simplicity to me.

Of the other things that need to be given it's due share of importance are the sun, Water, Soil, Seeds, mother, animals, human body, respect for others, innocence, virtue of truth, ideas, imagination, dreams, one's heart, books, cultures, history, virtue of peace and one's own soul.

The journey from Grass to soul is an ardent journey of man from a single cellular cell to a complex living being with emotions, with distractions, with peace, with love, with evolution to be the dominant creature created ever, and with a plausible sense of understanding of his metamorphosis.

Today, the present date, as i write this blog, is today, because of a chain of events that are totally out of control of anybody and are well guided by the very charm of nature in a relentless process seemingly inexhaustible to man. Thus today, as i think before i write, i think of yesterday when the idea of writing this was conceived, the flow had to be totally dependent on the fluctuating ways of the mind, not a bit under my control as i please. So i let the nature of it run wild and deep.

Appreciable to it's grace on me now, i think of the future, the future again is going to be from the chain of events of yesterday and today, the idea conceived to the flow of my mind to put it down to when i will realize the completion of this chain by another thought that would be beyond and over this subject in writing.

Now the subject in writing for me today is nothing but to see if my fingers are in control of the mind or if my mind is in control of the fingers, if there is any sort of coordination what so ever with what i think and what i want to see.

I see today as history already, for this very moment when is say it, i am going to read it the next moment as past. So if this rhythm is what keeps nature going, i can imagine how relentless and precise as it is, is nature in working out a schedule so grand. A moment after another, a Second after another, a minute after another, a day after another, an year after another, a life after an another, a generation after another, a decade after another, a century after another, a millennia after another, it is mind blowing to what fathomable levels a mind can go only if given the right sort of training and understanding of the life's repertoire of events. What is at one moment is not the other.

I belong to the group of people under the sign Sagittarius, the most philosophical of all the signs, and the most flirt y too. People under this sign have been blessed with a keen sense of observing things from the inside out. A single introspection or a why can lead to a chain of thoughts beyond our perceivable sense of imagination.

A moment to another, a thought to another, the facade of mind field swiftly moves to what my next thought is going to look like. This intensity of imagination in the material norms of a conceptual mind holds one's thought to take a good look at the world around and to proceed in this constantly changing placid field with greater ease.

So all my writings are a good mix of the reality and the way i would like to perceive it. A good coincidence comes handy to confirm my flow with things around. And it comes in different forms, it's just that now i am so used to having them that deja vu's don't make sense anymore.

A state of mind where i have had this symposium with the inside and the outside of the me, let's me to tell coincidences to come as and when i want. What i seek is true to it's nature of my understanding to it. What i have read is not going to be wasted without me having to find out if it is accountable for a situation if i want to create it.

Is that how well i know myself, i don't know, but that's another coincidence. I think i do.

The television air's everything that is new in this world, everything being thought about people from my generation, they are willing to explore every possible leeway to get ahead in spreading their thoughts. The no of channels through which one can express his thoughts is pretty amazing considering the fact that our Pineal glands have become the size of an peanut from what they used to be, the size of a ping-pong ball at least.

You may ask me what does A Pineal glad has to do with the different channels of communication, well. it’s simple, earlier when man was more evolved than he is today (today, if you take his cell phone, his laptop, his Car, his credit cards, his i-mate's, his i-pod's, his stimulants, his tech.savy image) and leave him wandering in a city full of such devoid people, he may die of the want of things taken away from him rather than try to understand that evolution can be reversed for good if a collective went praying for the better of the worse.

So, this pineal gland, as i have read, was an important part of the brain, and was responsible for clairvoyance, telepathy and all the psychic normal behavior exhibited by learned men back in the days of no telephony.

The dependence of man upon his own inventions makes me wonder (as i read, has not done no good to us), why were these inventions sprouting out of the human minds after all. They sure were sprouting for the want of it or the need of it, or maybe for the complete communal want of something that they have been shown and have been made to read.

A guiding force, or rather a misguiding force is in complete control of certain channels that are leading this lovely civilization towards and absolute anarchy by technology dependence. This is not my version of a conspiracy theory, this is what i understand from what i see, and i am a part of this confused lot.

I seek answers to certain things, for which, even though i find the answers, may not be able to do anything but ponder upon the massive force and it's evil mindedness.

The good will out number the bad and the bad will out number the good, and there will be an end to this world, Hello...who has time to think about all this, for one i thing i know for sure, that is...it's not going to come to an end by the time i am buried in the hatchet. So my contribution to this world will be this blog, which one day will become a part of a book that i would write, and exclusively ask for any one of the pages to be read before i am laid in peace. Not for the fear that i should not go unheard, that way i have a lot of time in life to do what the wise men did, but that relentless pursuit towards life will devoid me of my socio-financio-mutually- admirable stance with my fellow worldies.

I would want at least a page of this book to be read just for the reason that, i can remember, i tried to live life every moment, in it's abstractness, in it's multitudinous, in it's beauty, in it's charm, and i created moments as i was living them, to relish them as they became past every passing second.

A chain reaction takes place and a thought takes over another, a seed takes over a tree, a grass blade heads another inch up towards the sun, a man heads another step towards his own liberation. Hears his own experience through his words before that final step and feels blessed.

Spare me the guilt, spare me the contradictions, spare me the regular mundane looking down upon people as thought they are scum and totally mesmerized by one's own achievement’s and one's own desire for a life full filling to the core, but with the virtue or vice of additionalities invented out of sheer communal misguided future relying totally on the unmeasured un-equilibrated thought pool of the material dwelling society.

The daunt of my own incapability to contribute right away without having all the time i need to first get to a state from where i can think about it, is really taking up all my thinking time, and in this time i have started to dwell on silence, and in this silence i hear everything that i want to hear, everything i want to see, every dream that would want to come true...it's all here...it's a process that i start off defining as my incapability and continue stating as the very reason why i don't want to be dependent merely on medium totally created out of imagination of geniuses to substitute this very golden silence.

A day dreamer by noon, a placid dreamer by the night, now i distinguish colors so well with my inner vision that i could tell the dreams are not in black and white.
I saw golden last night as my face wash flashing in my head to break the solitude sleep grants, that's when i realize it's time to get up and found that my alarm did not go for i did not set it the previous night. My face wash is Blue.

I have not seen blue yet in my dreams, the very fact the placid relates to blue, and dreams relate to the sub-conscious and the super-conscious me, i will be looking forward to a more deeper insight into the workings of my mind, face wash or no face wash.

I am sure it's too late from where i am starting, but i am not apprehensive about the path i am going to take, for, my research suggests that a balance has already been struck with me and my people, i am accepted the way i am no matter where i go, for i mean no harm to no one and can talk my heart and mind out at any given situation depending on what the situation demands.

The natural me is striving to go further from this point and explore the immense possibilities of a human mind and unleash my unspoken into the unknown and wait for an echo to come back to me saying...You were right after all...come thence further more...you have already started...now there is no looking back...you already hear this echo and it is the next moment that you won't. But you have spoken your wish...and your wish has to be but granted for your next step is ready to launch another assault to your seemingly subdued ego in it's due course of expanding the horizon to a continuous blank sheet of bright white spread to the point of no return and you stand holding a brush like you hold a new born baby in your hand, careful not to mishandle it and at the same time seamlessly jubilant and overflowing with joy watching it perceive the world around it as new as it can be....

Splurge the paint with my baby-holding grip on the brush, on this white stretch of unknown, unseen continuum of peace and serenity, with imagination like a bird on a wing, soaring a trajectory of zero gravity and suspending the paint as drops of pearls in it's own luster of animation and then dropping with splashes bigger then their conceived forms, leaving a beautiful trail of everlasting effervescence disappearing in the same trajectory of zero gravity as thought they hit a wall of clear glass.

This past hour, all the thoughts that have come to my mind with some spare distractions to the mundane work, i have penned down as an ongoing experience with learning to love life in every minute detail of it's expression.

I really wish i have more undisturbed hours like this one! But than i will have to reduce my pace of work or await thunderbolts to get the place go down crashing except my desk...lol.