My internal monologues and streams of the unconsciousness.
|Choice of the Moment?!
A moment of utmost frustration. A desperate moment. My life in a trap. What is to be my choice of a writer. Stirring emotions most frankly out of the deep and pouring them in the moment they are?! Raw. Uncooked. Unbaked. Un-anything. Or rather wait them entered in a luxurious herbarium?! Decorated. Tied with bands of suitable colours. Labeled to not disorder the oppressively neat order. Not screaming. Not hurting. Not establishing problems. Not complicating with further situations. Good to you, my artificial emotions, behaving so expectedly well. Keep staying there. Be silent. Shut up!! Please, do me that favour. Be fake, it suits you and you have to trust me. It suits all around. You will go no wrong. Get different. Be real. My choice as a writer. The second one?! Was it.
The True Bliss
The perfect time to feel what not to feel pain is, is the most immediate following the one of pain. In this very moment when your suffering bursts to the utmost then it comes the real climax - that of bliss. It is not the taste of culmination. It is an infinite relief. After reaching at the top of your agony only then you are blessed to clear your entire self away in the divine falling of nirvana.