In my head

I have these pictures and depictions in my head on how different sceanrios could take place.

Some of them are confrontations.

Part 1

I am not entirely good at confrontations or voicing out something that really bothers me. For half of the time, I ignore it and for the other half of the time, I devise plans on how I could get rid of them or do a mental confronation in my mind.

Not only confrontations, but also pointing out things that people do wrong to me and to people who do it.

Mostly I have been quiet in some of the situations and in others, I do speak out what I feel and think when I feel that I cannot bear it or when I come to a breaking point, or when it affects others.

With some people, it’s not worth it and it is pointless

With some people, it’s hard

With some people, I just go with it

I tend to think about what the others would feel when I would speak out my mind against them. At times, I simply can’t muster up the courage to do so. I am scared and afraid.

So what I do instead is I imagine how it would all go down in my head. In my head, I realese the fury and the rage that I contain. I go to the extreme. That’s what happens when you keep it all in.

This thing that I am doing, I know it’s not healthy and I should speak up. But I feel that for most of the times, my argument and the situation that I am in is simply pointless and not worth a confrontation. It’s petty and silly. In no way, shape or manner, does my self get destroyed but yes, I do obsessively think about it but also I feel that it’s not worth the fight and the argument.

I really need less of that because my whole life has been filled with impending doom and sadness of the past.

But for the ones that I know and feel would take a serious toll on me, I confront it. This would cause certain friendships to break, families to fight or cause a rift. But at the end, removing the toxic effects are worth it.

I not only have confrontations with the world but also with myself. I confront every aspect, every mistake, every thought, feeling and action. I obsess too much on those thoughts at the night and it keeps me awake for a long time. So, I put myself to sleep by either loosening myself into a world of fantasy that goes on in my head or I slowly succumb to the countless damaging thoughts.

 But in my head, confrontations do have it’s appealing yet damaging aspect.

This world of mine is a beautiful treasure kept in hiding.

Enrooted in me. 

Part 2

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In my head, is a place that I can control every factor, starting with the environment, the person and how I can let it move on. That is one of the most splended and beautiful part about our minds and our imagination. We are the sole owners of something so powerful and delicate. That creative process is the most wonderful aspect and immersing into it is a whole other level of high and addiction. Inside my head is a favourite place to be.

One sets out to create a puzzle, falls deeper into the complexity and into the endless void. It really is a wonderful feeling with break taking moments.

I wish I could be trapped in that space forever. Locking myself in my own stories. Living through the creations and of my mind. Locking my memory of ever creating this world, so that I have no recollection of what’s going to happen, but my world knows. I might make choices that would alter the creation of my story, but for a fact, I know that I will enjoy it and know what to do. I want it the easy and the hard way. I want my choices to be given it to me the easy way but I also want that challenge and pain. It’s a habit that I learnt from my life here in the real world, a habit that reality taught me. I  have thought through it all, but I feel that it still lacks a flare, a flare that I can’t pin point to.

I have designed my world accordingly to every desire, dream, challenge, pain, hurdle and also some deaths balanced with the proper mixage of my dark thoughts. I have created multiple worlds, story lines, choices and characters that fit and suit my story. I can jump from one story to an other. My worlds consisit of the ones that I read in books, watch everywhere, listen to and want to experience.

My hidden desires and wishes have always been in me and I have always had the chance to go and do something about it in my world.

It is a world that is so beautiful and extraordinary. A world where all dreams come true. A world to escape into. A world that will always be in the works of making and accomdoating to myself and the changes. A world that would forever change the way on how one lives their life.

 

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It’s a hopeful world, too beautiful and perfect to ever become a reality.

“It would forever become a world that will only cease to exisit in my mind.”

 

 

It was probably meant to be that way since the beginning.

If not, this world would not have existed and I wouldn’t have had the chance to enjoy every minute of my creation.

 

 

 

Back to the roots, a celebration.

August 19th, Sunday, 8:53 AM

( PS: Based on true events.

This whole piece was written in a drive to Abu Dhabi in a car, all handwritten. I have modified some of it a bit, but everything in this was written down in the book.

Attached at the end are the pictures of the piece I wrote in my book whilst on the drive. Do pardon me for my handwriting.

Before you all think why I chose the picture above as my feature image, it’s because I really like this picture and well it’s a celebration. I really like the song Hymn For The Weekend and it’s music video. It gave me a very good vibe just like how writing this piece did. So I felt like this captured what I felt during writing. I didn’t want to upload the classic pen and paper as my feature image, thought of doing it a different way. )

 

I have decided to go old school today. Back to the roots of writing. Back to a common man’s tool, the pen and paper.

Being so engrossed with my laptop and keyboard, I have truly forgotten how it feels to hold a pen in my hand and write what flows from my mind into a book filled with blank pages.

This idea quickly sprung upon me when my father decided to take myself and my mom to Abu Dhabi. a 2 hour drive.

Staring out to the buildings, the views of the sand and the watching the buildings rise up to the sky with the sunlight gleaming on them, looking at the whole of skyline in the comforts of my car. Looking at all those above views, I was pretty sure somewhere in my mind, I would be buzzing and itching to write something. I could have noted it all down in the notes section of my phone but I would loose the previlge of writing with a pen in my hand and I would have lost the opportunity to loose myself into the process of writing on this wonderful inspirational drive.

Before embarking on this drive, I was in the comfort of my sofa/bed watching a wonderful heartwarming movie, ” You’ve got mail.” A movie filled with simple yet charmatistic mentalities. Words, humorous personas, encounters and last but not the lease, the profounding quotes spoken by the characters. This played a role behind the inspiration today. ” To go back to the roots. ”

Now, as I am writing, I am in the comfort of the backseat of my car, writing with a pen in my book listenting to the businnes breakfast 103.8 reflecting on my surroundings and everything around me.

If this was my laptop, the grammarly softwarre embedded would have been correcting everything forcing my brain not to even apply the basic rules of grammar, spelling and work into what I write. During this process, my brain is forced but with a gentle push and nudge to apply the basic rules into what I write.

I forgot what this felt like. It is a nice yet overwheming feeling having a pen to pen down all my thoughts into a book. I still could have chosen the later option of noting it down in the notes app but why did I decide to do this? Why in the car whilst going on a drive?

Perhaps I was looking for an inspiration. Probably I needed an execuse to detach myself from my laptop. Maybe I needed this to remind this experience to remind me of the beauties and wonder of the feeling I once had, the feeling of writing using my pen and paper. It felt warm and nice to be reminded of that long last feeling and the joys that it gave me.

As I look out from the small window of the car, I see skycrapers all around me on one side and construction work on the other.  Conversations spark in the car about various topics of disucussion including myself. I sense discomfort in the air and I am quick and wise to go and seek the comfort of my penship because it feels safe.

The world and everything in it is changing.  I feel happy looking at it, my home for 18 years. Then, I feel a trail of sadness looking at it. The thought of leaving it could be the reason. The thought of leaving my family and friends upsets me, but then there is an excitement to return back but also follows the dread of leaving my mom, dad and friends behind. It’s a conflicting feeling.

Changes are different and hard to grasp and believe. Even the slightest move in my world affects me. It’s hard to describe my feelings to to change, that concept is a baffling one for me. It’s for the good and bad, like many of the other things I know. I simply cannot grasp and get hold of how I feel towards it.

To describe how I feel towards it, I have stringed down together a few words that I think could capture my views.

Like the waves of the sea behave, up and down, high and low, strong or mellow;

Like the wind, easy and breezy, cold or warm, harsh or soft, destruction or mellow;

Like that, I change my views and feels to the emodiment of change.

There is another quote as well that reflects a part of what I feel towards change. A quote from the movie You’ve got mail.

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I am glad I took upon the experience of writing this down with my pen in my book. I am happy that I was able to take a quick descison just before leaving for the drive, to take my pen and book. It felt absoultely joyous and warm to head back to the roots, where the process of writing took place.

Once in a while, I think we should all go back to the roots of writing. It gives you a nice sense of feeling.

( PS: Of course however I wish there was a machine that could just copy my writing into what I am writing right now, it’s complicated, because I kind of find it a menace to write the whole thing over in my laptop again but this was worth it. )

My mind and the thought process of it are overflowing with numerous thoughts, but for some reason, I can’t seem to write them down. The irony of it all. I have a pen, I have a book and I have the words. Then why can’t I?

I look outside, the commentary in the radio is interesting but I want my eyes and brain to rest for a while. I look outside and I can myself drown in the drowsiness of my weary and tired self.

I feel like a writer now. A writer in search for words and stories. A writer in touch and connect with one’s self. A writer with a mind keen to write.

This feels like something out of the movies. A movie where a lost writer goes out to a new place in search for inspiration and stories to write or is in search for his lost identitiy or set on a path to discover something.

I am starring in that movie right now, my own life, a movie, but I don’t know what I am searching for. I am on a car ride going to a place, far away from where I live. I am in a car simply enjoying what I am doing right now, writing with a pen in the paper.

Farewell for now.

 

( As promised, here lies the pictures of the piece in the book I have wrote.)

 

Amidst​ all the books.

I entered into a beautiful trap. It was a trap right from the start. I knew it but I went in.

At the entrance, it gave me a chance to let go of my worries and I hastily took it to enter the world of words.

Far away from all the crowd, I spotted a small bench and sat down amidst all the books. Every story looked towards me. Everything was within my reach. I felt at peace.

The covers of the book charmed me. I read them front and back. I felt excited!

I  looked and gazed at all the wonders the authors left for me. I fell into an enchanted trap.

Amidst the crowd, I held the two books that caught my eyes.

I sat down in a spot, far away from the eyes of the crowd. I gently opened the first page, admired it, flipped each page and thus I began to read.

After a short while, I looked up at the world around me and I saw it all.

Different worlds under one roof. Any book that I held in my hands, refused to let me go. I refused to be taken away from my world.

Once the thoughts tried to make its way back, I started to get back to my reading. The music played soothed me, yet I got worked up as each page turned by. Time seemed to halt for a long pause when I was here.

Hours could pass by and I never was aware, because it was all a part of an elaborate scheme in works. It was all a beautiful trick, a trick of feeding on my emotions until the very end.

I was oblivious to the happenings of the world and the crowd around me. This was a world where I was persuaded and allowed to take breaks from life.

Perhaps this was why it played its tricks, it could have been its way of acting out on the pain inflicted on taking some of its heart away. Or it wanted some of its heart to be taken away. It might have enjoyed it.

Two sides existed, one can never know which one it chose and which one it was forced to end up being. Or it could have ended up with its favorite choice as well.

This was a world where manipulations and trickery were at its level best and it worked its enchantment quite well.

Those who survived had a gleaming pride on their face because they got to take a huge portion of this world’s heart with them, and for those who couldn’t as much as they liked or couldn’t at all had their hearts toyed with, they had a sliver of hope yet were dismayed.

Over here, hope existed despite all the pain.

Despite all of it, this place took away my worries and sorrows.

It became a place to indulge my mind and heart with the world of others.

It was a place that took me to places further and beyond within and from this spot.

It soon became the time to leave.

The moment I stepped out of the exit, I was forced to head back to a world of ruins and mind succumbing thoughts.

To help cope up, I brought a part of it along with me. It wouldn’t last long, but I accepted it and held it in my hands. I kept it close to my heart vowing to never let go. I sniffed the pages and instantly, I was brought back to a world of beauty and tranquility.

I was a lost traveler until I stepped into your world. No questions arose when I came to you. You are a force that kept pulling me to you and I vow to always be in that loop.

Thank you and until next time.

( The featured image is taken by my dear Friend, Raveena.

This is one of the bookstores I love going to. I wrote this when I was here sitting on one of the spots with two books in my hand. Bookstores and libraries are where I feel at peace and at home. I have this dream when I own a house, a room dedicated just for my books and to every book out there. A room filled with treasures overlooking the view of the skies and tall scrapers and at night, I see all the city lights within the comfort of a book in my hand and some good music. )