Voilating the kinesphere

Apologies.



Apologies for not being able to understand the dynamic and multiparametric nature of your kinesphere. I understand that you have always respected and maintained the dignity of my space, which I havent actually been able to reciprocate all along. I tried to argue, but failed because my arguments do not hold ground. The base I stand on is very slippery, with nothing to hold onto.



As an afterthought, I must say that I do admire your gandhian fearlessness, as always. It is always best to call a spade a spade. Somewhere, I may never be able to learn where this bravery comes from. I guess it comes from a lot of suffering and pain you have gone through in your past.



As you often say, you have nothing to lose, so why be afraid. I do not know why I cannot see this. Maybe God has given me so much that I always fear losing it. Maybe God has not given you as much as he gave me. So I do fear to lose what I have.



Somewhere in my mind, the old saying is ringing. It said - If you love someone, set them free. If they come back they're yours; if they don't they never were... Past showed me how true this was. But I prefer not to go thru it again and again. I prefer to lead a love filled life. But my preference is too personal in nature. It would never apply to others. Whatever I prefer, should never be a chain in your feet. I respect your space and will do so (more) in the future. I would try my best not to voilate its sanctity again.



I am sorry. And I am sorry for my ramblings, bumblings and stumblings today.

I hate my impatience.

I love my weakness because it is my strength too.

Say cheese...

Anger hurts big time.

And it hurts even more when one simply gulps it down with a dry smile. It does down the throat with a thorny feel and sticks in the chest for long, refusing to go down further.

There was a time when anger used to go down well, and turn into fuel to power the drive. Now, the drive itself seems to be taking long pauses of silence, sprinkled with unspoken boredom. I know I no longer do interesting things, I no longer have more rabbits in my hat to pull out with joyous surpises. Looks like my show is losing its pace, without reaching the climaxic orgasm. Visualizing an almost empty theatre with a lone puppet on the stage, with sloppy strings, almost falling down.

The formality of the night was a shattering expereince, a normal shattering experience. Shattering, because I felt broken to splinters peircing my skin. Normal, because I am told this is bound to happen.

I cannot react, because I could not act at the first place.
And I am told, even if I would have acted, my reaction would not be valid.

It is like flying a solo aircraft over atlantic, with fuel running down fast, and obviously there is no destination. Just flying till ...

Looking back, I am trying to bring out utility out of my futility.
No longer. In most cases, my utility is long over.
I do not know how I can be useful any longer.

Good Morning Sunday. Smile ... Say Cheese. ... Look Happy.... What the heck.