Why i write

Writing is my daily medicine for my body and mind. I trimming my overnight growth of hairs (me) of expectations obstructing my vision of clear sky and creating discomfort in paradise (my home of abundance).

I must write till I am rid of arrows bleeding me or I am no more.

Am I not making up ? Seeing things? Making things bigger than they are? Making me smaller than I am? Remembering that I may not? Misinterpreting? Predicting? 

I am lacking intelligence. 

I am unable to see or think all as they are and no further FULL STOP

[it took me 2 hours to remove delusion from my eyes and see all in their true perspective. I aim to make it instantaneous.]

Here are some words from Ramakrishna reminding me of my limitations and cause of my unhappiness from my crave for knowledge and lust for physical pleasure:

  • I am a packet of salt trying to measure the depth of Ocean (my creator doubting its ability)!
  • I am an ant who can only carry one crystal of sugar and live on it. why do I care about mountain of sugar! when this very moment is sufficient why do i care for future!
  • Hanuman is forever happy with loved ones in his heart. I calculate my happiness with money and attentions. It is the measure of my unhappiness!
I am too tied up with hooks in me and hooks outside me to support me. those hooks have come loose and I have gravity pulled by zero or absence. Philosophy is not helping and it is urgent for me to float from moment to moment and not live in ropeway chair. I am afraid of height and my poverty - not able to afford the expense of the ropeway or rent of shelter.

I talk about freedom but cannot commit. I talk about self sufficiency but suffer from my insufficiency. I talk all is in mind but consider all is real and material and true. My life is a very bad dream never ending.

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