LOG ENTRY #48 – RL Quotes and Summer Projects

Recently, I’ve got very obsessed with real-life quotes. Things that people around me say, that affect me, move me. Maybe even just make me smile. It could be just a simple word like ‘OK’ or ‘Yes’. Or it might be a whole paragraph someone texted me. They could be lyrics, or poetry. They could very well be lines from a book I’m reading, or something I heard the weather man say. They could be dialogues from a movie. They could even be words, marking an event in my life, that had mattered a lot to me.

Most of the time they are absolute nonsense that I convince myself is awesome and stuff, and makes me seem, and feel deep.

Doesn’t change the fact that they are awesome! 😀

A lot of my posts on my cupboard are complete with time, date and day noted.

I like making memories.

And I’ve started to collect all of them, and write them down.

One of my many summer project was redecorating my room. And I decided to make a collage on my cupboards. Its a work in progress, but the number of note-book paper and Post-Its that are up on them, with words and sentences neatly penned on them in my favorite sort of felt-tip pen, is increasing every day. The fun part for me, is when sometimes, these words are so vague to everyone but me. People who aren’t familiar with the situation I was in, or the person I was talking to, or what we were talking about – they tend to look at my cupboard, and then look at me funny.

Or at least I think they definitely would. If they had the curiosity to spare my cupboard a glance. That is the other fun bit.

Initially I was a little scared about putting up so many things that mean so much to me (and also because I was a tad nervous about what would happen if my mother saw the time and date on some of those posts, and what they were saying) in plain sight. Right up front, on my cupboard doors. Because if it means enough to me, for me to remember it and put it up, it definitely defines my thought processes.

Double bluff.

No one looks in the most obvious places; people who don’t read the books I do, watch the movies and shows I do, don’t think like I do.

That list includes my family, so yeah, I’m good.

Anyhoo – I decided to start doing the same on my blog.

There are so many things that people on this website write, that make me smile or tug on my heart-strings. Or simply make me wonder.

And I wanted to share these words with you all. Maybe, if I am not attacked but a Bout Of Laziness, I’ll continue with posts of this sort, reading up blogs and quoting you guys! 🙂

Not particularly extraordinary kids in a not particularly extraordinary school but in an extraordinarily cherished phase of life.

The Phone Call; bottledworder

Letting one side of you flourish while repressing the other works out ok to begin with, but after a while you begin to feel it through your own writing, and for me, this has come in the form of I want to talk about something serious, feel as if I can’t, try and force myself to be entertaining even when I’m not feeling it, which then just ends with a temper tantrum

Sodium Sodium Sodium Sodium Batman!

– Mid-year resolutions….; Remain Insane

It should be fairly obvious by now what must be done.  Instead of filling that space with irrelevant content, fill it with (gasp!) relevant content!

– If Time Must Be Taken, Take Time; This Page Intentionally Left Blank

Like, you’re really awesome and I love you but you don’t love me, so I’ll settle for someone like you, but they won’t be as good as you.

(^This one is going on my cupboard.)

Granted, its cold outside and the water is freezing, but its kind of a great luxury to live by the ocean and stare out into it’s vastness. Yes, I’m gay.

On Tumblr; …like a virtual scrapbook of dreams.

Yes, I know. This person affected got three quotes from the SAME POST. o.O

– Fall Favo(u)rites; Lily In Canada

Cats are the world’s best secret-keepers.

– 5 Purrfectly Reasonable Habits; rarasaur

More to come soon! Slather the comments with a bunch of your favorite comments, maybe? 😀








LOG ENTRY #40 – Words Failed Me

Emma Fletcher fell in love with the written word when she was in kindergarten. Her teacher had handed her a book about cats who liked to hide in boxes and since that day – she had adored reading. It became an integral part of her life and her identity.

Emma’s parents were quite disturbed to learn that their darling daughter, who had displayed signs of such intelligence, could not speak. Their daughter’s incapability dashed their dreams. But as things turned out, Emma’s love for reading blossomed into a love for writing. She wrote all day. She filled up journal after journal, and never let her speech-problem get in the way of her mental development.

Emma was an introvert by nature. An introvert would know what one means when one says that they are one of the most bullied kind of people. Their habits are constantly poked, prodded and criticised. Emma was spared that criticism, mainly because she was under fire of such intensive sympathy all the time. A sympathy that was derived from her muteness. A sympathy she felt she neither needed nor required. This was because no matter what everyone said, Emma believed her position was enviable. Everyone else around her could talk, which was exactly why they did. And most of the time, they let themselves down.

Emma believed the quality of thoughts was much greater if conveyed through writing.

Keeping this little nugget of her own wisdom in mind, she wrote with pride and she wrote with relish. Speech was a handicap for most people and Emma was free of it. She grew up to be the strong, confident woman she had always dreamed of being, though she never let go of that quiet, shy corner of her being. The part that loved book-shops, musty old volumes, coffee and writing. She recorded every emotion, every experience and every event as she lived it.

As she had chosen journalism as her career, this practice helped.

Emma was fascinated by how perfect and complete the written word was. It had the power and ability to do justice to all the magnificently complex people, places, emotions and situations one faces in life. Words could break hearts and set tears gushing. They possessed the soothing caress that could patch-up hearts and null someone’s pain.

Words had accompanied her, her entire life. They had never failed her. There was a word for everything and everyone. 

It was when Emma was eighty – had walked the Earth, had achieved those rainbow, soap bubble dreams of hers that usually pop before one can touch them – that she learnt the sad truth that words are, after all, man’s glorious method of explaining the world to himself. Words, too, had limits.

‘Will there be anything else, dear?’ The nurse smiled sadly down at Emma’s frail figure. The hospital room’s sterile atmosphere swirled around them and the fresh, white chrysanthemums on the windowsill swayed gently by the force of some breeze. A breeze Emma was desperate to feel on her aged face.

Emma pointed at her leather bound journal, that was lying on the chair by the wall. Within a moment, she was handed it and her favorite fountain pen.

In her last few breaths, she recorded her last few thoughts. Her thoughts about how, if there was something indescribable – something that, in its mystery, left her speechless – it was Death.