Life is drawing itself into a curvaceous pile up with hardly any options of revival and an outlook bleaker than ever. Here, I confess of my slipping down-hill all over again. Writing is somewhat therapeutic – it sure gets the angst out. Hence this entry is nothing more than a rant of exasperation. When I am not seeking omens, tattered thoughts are stirring in my hollow head.
I officially declare myself a “Wuss of the Highest Order” since I have been grouchily whining about the pain in my entire body – thanks to the rigorous work out daily. Every muscle is screaming agony. I can almost feel my brain getting sore too. The most petty of movements shoot bolts of excruciating pain across my entire existence. For a moment there, I could even feel my soul quiver.
My snagged consciousness is treading on quicksands this morning. Nostalgia has invaded my thoughts but the rude awakening of “let-it-be” has occurred too. Cryptic Hint: I can’t feel it anymore. I’m reluctant to commit myself into any sort of activity today. Might as well go into a creative vacation of the mind. Also, am I a qualitative soul or a quantitative one? Not that the answer matters. I have already established myself as both. 😛
Here is a thought-provoking nugget that just crossed me: “The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and a lightning bug.” – Mark Twain. It has been quite a while since I read a classic. Might go for another Russian author again. Time for my dirty laundry-words to get another holler.
For now, I need to bask in the splendid sunlight and stretch a few more tendons and hamstrings…Ta!