Writeia

  The Day The day begins with some anxious thought, I breathe in and push them out, Sitting quiet for a while, almost meditative. What the day brings—I can't say I'm excited about, Maybe just about getting through it somehow. How? I'll figure it out as I trot on my way. Early in the morn, I call it quits on the day. To begin with, I drag myself out of bed, Some salt water, as the social doctors suggest, Some decaying food, to get last night's meal to digest. Once, I had a dream—the land looked like it does today. Maybe it was a nightmare, and I was just unaware. I could spend all day sitting, naked and bare, But with a thousand strings pulling at me, I don’t know how this puppet would fare. Now, maybe, downtrodden—from dreams and nightmare, To live once again, I can only hope to dare. (By Giorgio de Chirico (died 1978) - http://www.artuk.org/artworks/the-melancholy-of-departure-melanconia-della-partenza-198490, PD-US, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=103...

Oh, the fathers! I don’t know about the rest of the world, but in my corner of the place, the story is something unique, at least feels tome. Fathers drive the lives of their children—or at least, they try to. At its best, this helps sons set out in life on a good footing, a silver spoon in the mouth, so to speak. But the power they have built carries an inherent weakness—at least to them—the world will not remain the same as it did during their life time and their sons will never measure up. I can’t speak for others, only for myself. He—my pops—has acquired a kind of deity-like status among some of our family members, most of whom are part of our regular social circle. Where does that leave me? Like always, with choices—mostly two. I can either be the son of God or the angel that has fallen, the devil who will never cast a larger shadow than his father or the son who will have rights to the power of the father. One of them has happened to me. Daily, from the million of things I do, th...

 It’s one in the morning, and oh, the week I’m about to tell you guys about. I can't think of a particular point to begin with. I’ve met a lot of wonderful women in my life—women who have blown my mind away. But whether by sheer luck or destiny, I’ve now met someone I can talk to in a way that makes me want to be chatting with her right now instead of writing this. The kind of conversations we have, how we can talk about anything and still find something new to discuss moments later—I’ve never felt that before. But let me not get ahead of myself. I was about to tell you about my entire week. Let’s go. Last Monday, I was supposed to attend a very important event in my life—my friend’s wedding. What I would’ve done to be there. I had everything planned out: I was supposed to fly to Birgunj in the evening, attend his wedding the next morning, and make it back. What I didn’t do was tell JD about it. And by the time I got around to it, it was too late—he wanted boots on the ground by ea...