tempdist asked: "People who understand me, have chained my mind, but if I don’t speak, I feel relieved, I keep away the shit." I would hate to do that to u.. I just want u to b happy first of all. Later on, I may judge u from your choices, but that is something we all do, even when we deny. But this never means that I would not accept you along with the choices u make.. I may suggest what more u could do..but that only because I see more potential in you, I hope you to live more adversity rather than retiring!
I just feel like keeping quiet mostly and listen or read or paint or write. You are a loved friend. I trust you in all ways, you are close to truth more than any one I have ever known. Many times I feel like talking to you but I don’t know what to talk about.
I hated if something moved me in human way.. I mean when I’d react all teary to some emotional scene, or if I gasped at a love scene or if I’d became angry or sad. I hated all of it.
“Worry is a misuse of imagination”, I dunno who, am I quoting here, just connected the dots. I worry about who I might become, call it super ego, yes I don’t express much because I feel all are foolish or better. Mind keeps dwindling and looking in the dark. I don’t understand the simplicity of just living or being. Inside out. Love is ambiguous, I don’t rely on it, care is selfish, words are escapists, thoughts are mathematical derivations of the world in abstract, to be honest I don’t wish to be sometimes, too curious to live. I don’t know why am I moved.
People keep telling me to say things out loud. Sometimes I wonder if I start saying and telling them about the things that I think, they will mingle it all. Opinions!!! Opinions!!! I fear them. Yes. More verses, more universes.. More universes, more chaos and smaller my life would be. I just want to lie down under the sky, and make my theories. I don’t want any opinions. I don’t want to publish them under my name. People who know my identity, are enslaving me. People who understand me, have chained my mind, but if I don’t speak, I feel relieved, I keep away the shit.
Collision is a better situation than torn.
I doubt that the hedonist ideal could ever be achieved; I’m afraid the sort of life it advocates for us may not be compatible with human nature.
Milan Kundera, slowness.
Today is the day when I’ll get back to my usual routine from the world of calculus and transfer functions. I’ll read, and try to accommodate.