I sometimes wish I was born mute. Because whenever I speak I land up hurting or offending people. Many a times, I didn’t intend to hurt people but still they were hurt.
The problem is that I often fail to understand what effect some words have on people; impulsive as I am, I speak whatever comes to my mind, later I realise how terrible I was. But till then the damage has been done. I have hurt family, friends, everyone.
The most befitting punishment should be isolation. Complete isolation. Terrible people like me deserve neither family nor friends. All I deserve is loneliness. I lessen my communication to people. Then only I can save myself and others from such situations
It’s been around 15 days I’ve been away from WordPress but it seems like ages…
I’ve been away for my semester finals.
Feels lovely to be back 😊
Word of the Week is a weekly meme created by Heena Rathore P. It’s a fun way to learn new words every week.
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Astraphobia /noun/ as-truh-foh-bee-uh /
1 A morbid fear of thunder and lightning
It is also known as astrapophobia, brontophobia, keraunophobia, or tonitrophobia. It is a treatable phobia that both humans and animals can develop.
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After today, if any body who passes by my room, would get to see this
I’m a lazy drone, a spoilt kid actually. Always too lazy to keep my belongings in order. My room isn’t dirty mind you, you won’t find dead rats (not even alive ones) or rotting food or stinking clothes. I’m hygienic you see. It’s just haphazard. Clothes are clean, but not properly folded, worn clothes may be on my chair rather than on a hanger. Books and papers never stay in a clean stack or only on the table but they are strewn on my bed as well. So the statutory warning.
Even after the warning if someone does enter, will get to see my vampire-themed sign hanging from my study table drawer. (I’m a vampire-fan so there should be some vampirism reflecting from my room as well, right?)
You get to enter does not mean you get to touch my drawer, drawers meant for stuffs that cannot be shown to others or those that need protection. So no touching. Only exception is my mommy dearest, she gets access to everything that belongs to me.
And this on my books closet, the closet that has all my precious novels
Those who love books like me can get access BUT only with my permission
That’s all for today
P.S. sorry for the monochrome pictures, I could manage only this much. Pardon my deficiency of creativity
Today i had a conversation with my mind, didn’t get any profound solution to my problem but still it was good have a talk
Mental critic (MC): hey what’s up?
Me: Don’t YOU know what’s up? Aren’t you supposed to be in my head all the time?
MC: umm yes, but isn’t that what you say everytime you meet a friend? If you meet same person twice in a day you ask the same question twice
Me: Whatever 😒
MC: Didn’t you just sign up for NajoWrimo? How’s it going?
Me: Umm… Good enough. Though I have exams knocking at the door, I take out some time to write
MC: You and journal writing? Different
Me: Yes, this year I am doing things which I haven’t done before. You tell me how am I doing it? You are my personal critic right?
MC: Hmmm….. Not bad… But you should keep trying to improve, somehow there’s something missing that stops your piece from being unique and entertaining.
Me: But what am I supposed to do?
MC: That’s for you to find out. I’m your mind not any expert, my expertise evolves with you, I’m not standalone, remember?
Me: 😞😞 I dunno who can help me out.
MC: You keep persevering and follow your heart when you write, ask your friends or professors for feedback
Me: Hmmm.. I guess you’re right
I thought over the entry I wrote yesterday. Though I consoled myself saying that yes I’m creative by the smattering of writing skills I have, by collecting coins and stamps and by taking up some dance classes, but still I’m not convinced that I’m being fruitfully creative.
why do I feel so deficit ? Is it my inferiority complex talking or is it the blunt truth that I’m not creative ?
But whatever I’m doing, do you know who inspires me? A lot of people. My granddad inspires me in numismatics and philately. From him I knew collecting unique coins and stamps is an art (okay……) otherwise I never dreamt that collecting these has any value.
Writing…….. Ummmm….. I first wrote anything on my own as a class assignment in 6th standard. The teacher liked my writing. But I left it there as an assignment. Later again in 8th grade we were a surprise class assignment where I wrote some clichéd romantic piece, which wasn’t good. Then one of my friends encouraged me to write that too a mystery. It took me a year and a half. It was good enough but now when I read, is kind of kiddish and still lacks some factors. While writing this mystery I tried my level best to air the style of writing Mr. Satyajit Ray used in his works. I admire his writings a lot.
Dance….. It’s music that makes me dance… I didn’t know the technicalities of dancing but I enjoy dancing.
Ok, now I feel better. For now.
That’s all for today. See you tomorrow
I’m not half as creative as my mother, she keeps creating sometimes beautiful out of almost anything and everything.
I’m just awful, I can’t stitch, only the chain style stitch I can somehow do, but it’s turns out a crude work. Even though I took art classes for around seven years, all I can somehow do is anatomy diagrams, that too out of much difficulty. I can paint an already drawn picture but that’s nothing great, right?
My creativity quotient is ZERO. It seems neither side of my brain works efficiently. The only thing “creative” is play around little bit with words and write something but even that’s amateurish. I try writing fiction, but somehow it lacks the X-factor that can grasp any reader’s attention.
I’m so not creative 😢😢😢
My life seems so monotonous, dull, lifeless……
Ok wait…. Is philately and numismatics something creative?? Then voila!!!! I’m a philatelist and a numismatist!!!!!
And again, I have signed up last month for contemporary dance, so now I’m on my way to become a dancer!!!!!
But I still wish I could be like my mother. This makes me miss mom more 😞