The roots of your little pleasures, fleeting joys and giddy delights in life should never be in the clutches of your big achievements, substantial rewards and potent prosperity. You must not mix up these two exhilarating sources of happiness: One effortlessly scattered like little wild infinite flowers across your entire life, and the other arduouslyContinue reading “Life’s Garden”
Tag Archives: writingblog
Repressing
He had so many questions and they were shadowed by answers that were futile to both of us. He asked if I liked my new place, he asked what I had planned for tonight, he asked how my grandma was doing – things he knew the responses to. He also asked about the weather evenContinue reading “Repressing”
Guiltessly Rested
When they were guilty of restlessness. And so their story took form when the years duped them to becoming adults. Duped because adult-hood is not not a sorrowful hood to reside in. They signed papers, they paid bills, they bought china plates decorated with a gilt of gold on their rims, they scheduled times toContinue reading “Guiltessly Rested”
Writer’s Block
It’s been days that I am in a “writer’s block” cove, unable to wriggle myself out. It feels damp and stuffy in here, and seriously dusty. The people in here smell like rancid sour judgements. Today is the day I flick off the guards and police of thoughts standing by this cove. Protecting all that’sContinue reading “Writer’s Block”
Quercetin
“Why write fiction?” asked the bookshop’s sales manager, “Why not write about philosophy – erratic emotions, wise thinking, real experiences, contemplation – you’d be good at that. The world is full of forged personalities as it is. Maybe that’s why you don’t have clients. People need to relate to the gist these days rather thanContinue reading “Quercetin”
An Insomniac’s Morning Hours
When the call to prayer sounds and the sun’s about to rise, my thoughts restlessly dissect this sorrow, that guilt, old lies. “I can’t keep up”, I say, “slow down and stop the mumbling!” But they answer with obtuse eloquence, lingering, rolling, and tumbling. How lucky I find those people, who are right now asleep. Continue reading “An Insomniac’s Morning Hours”
Rock Bottom
It’s past midnight now. After hours of online research with the commercial tunes of the latest Albanian hits playing from YouTube for inspiration, another good portion of my brain is officially numbed to render me calm and useless for work. I am sitting on the edge of the low windowsill with the window open, lookingContinue reading “Rock Bottom”
To Pour Out
… and then to just pour out of the cracked cup. Not from the rim like most people do – no – rather you’d be slowly tick tocking, drip dropping, out of the cup from the ruggedness of the crack. You won’t be so watery like most people are; you’d be thick like the consistentContinue reading “To Pour Out”
Marigolden
I felt like home among the golden glint of the Marigold flowers coddled under the belly of the sun.Miles away from home, an electric jolt of adrenaline nudged my heart so that my whole chest heaved when I breathed in.I felt like water. Or more like snow; wrong for a girl raised by a rockyContinue reading “Marigolden”
But First, Coffee
My eyes felt heavy, but I didn’t let them rest after the too-much they had stayed open for, and the much-more they were waiting for to happen. I blinked very fast, too. In case you turned to look my way and find me mid-blink, then you might have thought my eyes are resting so myContinue reading “But First, Coffee”
Beisan's Burble 