Logic will get you from A to B. Imagination will take you everywhere.

-Albert Einstein

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Escapism is a trustworthy companion,
a powerful source of joy,
an eternal harbinger of freedom,
a constant ray of hope.

But it soon becomes a habit,
a need, 
a compulsion,
an addiction - of a feeling that comes with escaping mediocrity, an unpleasant one. 

You become a slave of freedom. 
You too, who has never seen slavery of any kind.
You, who always took things for-granted, 
grow into a prisoner of your own insensitivity.

And thus, escapism, however sweet it might be each time, 
turns you into a monster slowly and steadily, 
devouring a part of you every time you devour a part of it.

Thus, all you are left with is a skeleton gasping for more breath,
but all more you do to yourself is suffocate.

 

God: Hello. So, what would you like to be?

Me: I would like to be a cat. Please and thank you.

God: Oh! But why not a human or maybe a horse or I don’t know a goldfish?

Me: Yeah but I don’t wanna go through all the bullshit or be ridden for long distances till I starve or spend my whole life in a little water tank. I just wanna purr all day. ^_^

God: Hmm.. Well, I am extremely sorry I can make you anything but a cat.

Me: What?? But why??

God: Personal reasons.

Me: Whaaaaaaat!!!! Are you kidding me??? I have been practising as per the brochure rules, as my favourite animal, as a fucking CAT. I like purring all day, avoiding other cats, climbing walls, vanishing into narrow dark lanes….. I have always dreamed of being a cat. What crap! You have to understand.

God: I am really sorry but I just cannot. Can’t you want to be something else? How about a lion, a tiger, a leopard, you know, you’ll still be a cat.

Me: No! I wanna be the normal one, the white furry little one. I don’t wanna be something else. I just cannot be something else.

God: Hmm.. Well..

Me: What well… what is wrong with you? Why did you even give me a choice in the first place? I tried living as other things.. a fox is too stupid, always pretending to be so sly but they simply just don’t know how to talk .. a pigeon but they literally are a buttload of crap.. a whale but nooooooo way … a deer but when i tasted one being a tiger, they are so delicious and so tiger was better but isn’t it tiring to be hunting all the time.. finally nothing was right. Only cat. Being a cat, I was king of the planet yet i never had to rule. I slept and dreamed and was petted all day.

God: Yeah, but…..

Me: but what? I cannot take no for an answer. I will then live a celibate all my life here than be anything else on earth. Isn’t this your whole point? Populate that fucking planet? But you know what? I won’t. I just won’t. I won’t be there and fucking reproduce. I am better off here bodiless than being trapped in something disgusting. You have lost yourself. You are not god anymore. Just a fucking receptionist, an elevator to the most wretched planet you created.

God: Alright, enough.

Me: No, you will listen. You have no idea what I have been going through. What you put souls like us go through. This is all just a funny game to you. A funny stupid little game. Your angels have started whispering. Everybody has lost faith. You are old and a disgrace to yourself. Living by that stupid system of yours. I deny being sent to earth if not as a cat. I deny being your slave. I deny ….

God: You leave me no choice… human.. !

Me: You leave no choice to yourself. You are an asshole. Wait, what?

NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!

Brooklyn

One day the sun will come out. You might not even notice straight away, it’ll be that faint. And then you’ll catch yourself thinking about something or someone who has no connection with the past, someone who is only yours and you’ll realise that this is where your life is.

I hardly remember the last time I had laughed and cried so much while watching a movie. Brooklyn is a complete one. A beautiful story about an Irish girl who finds herself on crossroads when she has to choose between her past and future.

*spoilers ahead*

Eilis Lacey leaves her beloved sister and mother in Enniscorthy, County Wexford in southeast Ireland in hope of a better future in America. She enters Brooklyn with a dream in her heart but soon loses herself in the foreign crowd. Waking up to strange voices overwhelms her and storms of homesickness test her endurance everyday. She writes numerous letters to her sister, both missing each other badly, crying themselves to sleep every night.

After settling in the new life, she meets an Italian guy in an Irish dance and their love story commences. She looks forward to meeting him everyday after her night classes. But what about her return? She has to choose between her new life in America and the old in Ireland when Tim (his boyfriend) declares his love for her. Her hair all tangled, she stands looking at herself, reciprocating at the course her life has taken, in the mirror that has hitherto seen so many similar lives pass by.

Eilis is soon told of her sister’s tragic and untimely death. She breaks and returns to her family briefly, but only after getting married to Tim. In her hometown, she meets her mother, works in a temporary job where her sister used to work and meets a charming fella. The whole town drowns in the talk of the two being a perfect match for each other but Eilis hides both her marriage (from everybody) and the letters she has been receiving from Tim (from herself). Soon the encounter with her mean ex-boss reminds her of the harsh reality of the town, the town that has pulled her down to its level and obscured her capabilities and she gets scared of living her future there. The prospect of returning to the new life she had found in the arms of her love sends adrenaline to her arteries. She stands and slams the door on the lady’s face walking out with the resolve of going back to America, though to her mother’s disappointment.

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And the wheel of life moves on, only the faces of characters changed.

 

Quotes by Henry David Thoreau

Taken from the book Where I Lived And What I Lived For

  1. “Rather than love, than money, than fame, give me truth.”
  2. “Most men, even in this comparatively free country, through mere ignorance and mistake, are so occupied with the factitious cares and superfluously coarse labors of life that its finer fruits cannot be plucked by them. Their fingers, from excessive toil, are too clumsy and tremble too much for that.”
  3. “Age is no better, hardly so well, qualified for an instructor as youth, for it has not profited so much as it has lost.”
  4. “Could a greater miracle take place than for us to look through each other’s eyes for an instant? We should live in all the ages of the world in an hour:ay, in all the worlds of the ages. History, Poetry, Mythology! – I know of no reading of another’s experience so startling and informing as this would be.”
  5. “You may say the wisest thing you can old man – you who have lived seventy years, not without honor of a kind – I hear an irresistible voice which invites me away from all that. One generation abandons the enterprises of another like stranded vessels.”
  6. “Most of the luxuries, and many of the so-called comforts of life, are not only not indispensable, but positive hindrances to the elevation of mankind. With respect to luxuries and comfort, the wisest have ever lived a more simple and meagre life than the poor. The ancient philosophers, Chinese, Hindoo, Persian, Greek, were a class than which none has been poorer in outward riches, none so rich in inward.”
  7. “There are nowadays professors of philosophy, but not philosophers. Yet it is admirable to profess because it was once admirable to live. To be a philosopher is not merely o have subtle thoughts, nor even to found a school, but so to love wisdom as to love according to its dictates, a life of simplicity, independence, magnanimity, and trust. It is to solve some of the problems of life, not only theoretically, but practically.”
  8. “When a man is warmed by several modes which I have described (food, shelter, clothing), what does he want next? Surely not more warmth of the same kind, as more and richer food, larger and more splendid houses, finer and more abundant clothing, more numerous incessant and hotter fires, and the like. When he has obtained those things which are necessary to life, there is another adventure than to obtain the superfluities; and that is, to adventure on life now, his vacation from humbler toil having commenced. The soil, it appears, is suited to the seed, for it has sent its radicle downward, and it may now send its shoot upward also with confidence. Why has man rooted himself thus firmly in the earth, but that he may rise in the same proportion into the heavens above? – for the nobler plants are valued for the fruit they bear at last in the air and light, far from the ground, and are not treated like the humbler esculents, which, though they may be biennials, are cultivated only till they have perfected their root, and often cut down at top for this purpose, so that most would not know them in their flowering season.”
  9. “Kings and queen who wear a suit but once, though made by some tailor or dressmaker to their majesties, cannot know the comfort of wearing a suit that fits. They are no better than wooden horses to hang the clean clothes on. Every day our garments become more assimilated to ourselves, receiving the impress of the wearer’s character, until we hesitate to lay them aside, without such delay and medical appliances and some such solemnity even as our bodies.”
  10. “Only they who go to soirees and legislative halls must have new coats, coats to change as often as them man changes in them.”
  11. “Who ever saw his old clothes – his old coat, actually worn out, resolved into its primitive elements, so that it was not a deed of charity to bestow it on some poor boy, by him perchance to be bestowed on some poorer still, or shall we say richer, who could do with less? I say, beware of all the enterprises who require new clothes, and not rather a new wearer of clothes. If there is not a new man, how can the new clothes be made to fit? IF you have any enterprise before you try it in your old clothes. All men want, not something to do with, bit something to do, or rather something to be. Perhaps we should never procure a new suit, however ragged or dirty the old, until we have so conducted, so enterprised or sailed in some way, that we feel like new men in the old, and that to retain it would be like keeping new wine in old bottles.”
  12. “Our moulting season, like that of the fowls, must be a crises in our lives. The loon retires to solitary ponds to spend it. Thus also the snake casts its slough, and the caterpillar its wormy coat, by an internal industry and expansion; for clothes are but our outmost cuticle and mortal coil. Otherwise we shall be found sailing under false colors, and be inevitably cashiered at last by our own opinion, as well as that of mankind.”
  13. “Our outside and often thin and fanciful clothes are our epidermis or false skin, which partakes not of our life, and may be stripped off here and there without fatal injury; our thicker garments, constantly worn, are our cellular integument, or cortex; but our shirts are our liber or true bark, which cannot be removed without girdling and so destroying the man.”
  14. “It is desirable that a man be clad so simply that he can lay his hands on himself in the dark, and that he live in all respects so compactly and preparedly, that, if an enemy take the town, he can, like the old philosopher, walk out the gate empty-handed without anxiety.”
  15. “In the long run, men hit only what they aim at. Therefore, though they should fail immediately, they had better aim at something high.”
  16. “At last, we know not what it is to live in the open air, and our lives are domestic in more senses than we think. From the hearth to the field is a great distance. It would be well perhaps if we were to spend more of our days and nights without any obstruction between us and the celestial bodies, if the poet did not speak so much under a roof, or the saint dwell so long. Birds do not sing in caves, do doves cherish their innocence in dovecots.”
  17. “The farmer is endeavouring to solve the problem of a livelihood by a formula more complicated than the problem itself.”
  18. “And when the farmer has got his house, he may not be richer but the poorer for it, and it be the house that has got him. As I understand it, that was a valid objection urged by Momus against the house which Minerva made, that she ‘had not made it movable, by which means a bad neighbourhood might be avoided’; and it may still be urged, for our houses are such unwieldy property that we are often imprisoned rather than housed in them; and the bad neighbourhood to be avoided is our own scurvy selves. I know one or two families, at least, in this town, who, for nearly a generation, have been wishing to sell their houses in the outskirts and move into the villages, but have not been able to accomplish it, and only death will set them free.”
  19. “Granted that the majority are able to last either to own or hire the modern house with all its improvements. While civilization has been improving our houses, it has not equally improved the men who are to inhabit them. It has created palaces, but it was not so easy to create noblemen and kings. And if the civilized man’s pursuits are no worthier than the savage’s, if he is employed the greater part of his life in obtaining gross necessaries and the comforts merely, why should he have a better dwelling than the former?
  20. “By the blushes of Aurora and the music of Memnon, what should be man’s morning work in this world? I had three pieces of limestone on my desk, but I was terrified to find that they required to be dusted daily, when the furniture of my mind was all undusted still, and I threw them out of the window in disgust. How, then, could I have a furnished house? I would rather sit in the open air, for no dust gathers on the grass, unless where man has broken ground.”
  21. “I would rather sit on a pumpkin and have it all to myself, than be crowded on a velvet cushion. I would rather ride on earth in an ox cart with a free circulation, than go to heaven in the fancy car of an excursion train and breathe a malaria all the way.”
  22. “The civilized man is a more experienced and wiser savage.”
  23. “A man is rich in proportion to the number of things he can afford to let alone.”
  24. “As long as possible, live free and uncommitted. It makes but little difference whether you are committed to a farm or the country jail.”
  25. “The only house I had been the owner of before, if I except a boat, was a tent, which I used occasionally when making excursions in the summer, and this is still rolled up in my garret; but the boat, after passing from hand to hand, has gone down the stream of time. With this more substantial shelter about me, I had made some progress towards settling in the world. This frame, so slightly clad, was a sort of crystallization around me, and reacted on the builder. It was suggestive somewhat as a picture in outlines. I did not need to go out doors to take the air, for the atmosphere within had had lost none of its freshness. It was not so much within doors as behind a door where I sat, even in the rainiest weather. The Harivansa says, ‘An abode without birds is like a meat without seasoning.’ Such was not my abode, for I found myself suddenly neighbour to the birds; nit by having imprisoned one, but having caged myself near them. I was not only nearer to some of those which commonly frequent the garden and the orchard, but to those wilder and more thrilling songsters of the forest which never, or rarely, serenade a villager – the wood-thrush, the veery, the scarlet tanager, the field-sparrow, the whippoorwill, and many others.”
  26. “‘There are none happy in the world but beings who enjoy a freely vast horizon’ – said Damodara, when his herds required new and larger pastures.”
  27. “Morning brings back the heroic ages. I was as much affected by the faint hum of a mosquito making its invisible and unimaginable tour through my apartment at earliest dawn, when I was sitting with door and windows open, as I could be by any trumpet that ever sang of fame.  It was Homer;s requiem; itself an Iliad and Odyssey in the air, singing its own wrath and wanderings. There was something cosmical about it; a standing advertisement, till forbidden, of the everlasting vigor and fertility of the world.”
  28. “The morning, which is the most memorable season of the day, is the awakening hour. Then there is least somnolence in us; and for an hour, at least, some part of us awakes which slumbers all the rest of the day and night. Little is to be expected of that day, if it can be called a day, to which we are not awakened by our Genius, but by the mechanical nudgings of some servitor, are not awakened by our own newly-acquired force and aspirations from within, accompanied by the undulations of celestial music, instead of factory bells, and a fragrance filling the air – to a higher life than we fell asleep from and thus the darkness bear its fruit, and prove itself to be good, no less than the light.”
  29. “To him whose elastic and vigorous thought keeps pace with the sun, the day is a perpetual morning.”
  30. “We must learn to awaken and keep ourselves awake, not by mechanical aids, but by an infinite expectation of the dawn, which does not forsake us in our soundest sleep.”
  31. “Every man is tasked to make his life, even in its details, worthy of the contemplation of his most elevated and critical hour. IF we refused, or rather used up, such paltry information as we get, the oracles would distinctly inform us how this might be done.”

The lightning struck and shook the dog. The tiny little creature started walking towards me, alone in the dark and in middle of the road, probably seeking love and care. I set my foot towards him as well, unable to stand his helplessness. Just when I was about to reach him, he sat himself and dropped his head. I rubbed his head and gave a massage to his neck. He took it all happily, keeping his head down all the while. But I had to resume my jogging. So I withdrew my help abruptly, stood up and resumed my jog .. without looking back.

As my another round was nearing completion, I expected the dog to be sitting at the same place expecting my return. I needed him as much as he needed me. What can be better than an unconditional flow of love? I turned the corner and felt happy to find him right where I had left him wanting shelter of my love so badly. I paced up merrily, more dancing like the Little Red Riding Hood, to offer him all my love, a rub on his head so satisfying he will remember all his fucking little life.

But he was busy … busy licking his balls. I jogged away, betrayed and broken.

#‎puppystory‬ ‪#‎loveandbetrayel‬ ‪#‎jesusiseverywhere‬