I stare at the blank screen wondering what's wrong. There are thoughts inside me which want to come out in print, easily forgetting the fact the transition between thoughts and words cannot be met easily. Sometimes I wonder why people write. I still don't know why am I mindlessly typing. My mind feels like a galloping horse which has been set free in the long lush grasslands of a Savannah.
Writing for me is a cathartic experience. I write without any pretensions of an accomplished writer. I don't write to seek approval for my visions and perceptions. But giving shape and form to those countless thoughts and feelings is a task mastered by a select few. There is something unreal about what is going through my mind right now. There is this irrepressible urge to break free. Break free from I don't know what. The blinking cursor teasingly asking me to continue this uninhibited expulsion of words, I look into the deep recesses of my mind to find something fathomable. But I find nothing. Yes, its a meaningless post but certainly not thoughtless.
They say there is an order to madness in the world. Anything which cannot be comprehended is madness. The ways of the human mind is always a work of mystery. A simple thought cannot be explained by science. We all know there is much more to it than just an electrical signal and an electromagnetic pulse field.
As I look into the darkness outside my window, a cool mild breeze flows in. The senselessness of this entire exercise perplexes me and yet feels so right. I feel like Mozart playing on his piano, humming Beethoven's symphony. I feel like Frank Sinatra dancing to an Elvis Presley song.
Unrelated thoughts strung together like odd shaped sea shells.
