Facebook posts. Write up's. propensity to box you in with labels.

"sometimes love is - sitting and typing on our respective laptops, listening to the gentle snores of our two dogs tugged in their blankets, what joy!"

"In the accelerated intimacy that can only be created by situations where the lines blur between life and death, we felt instantly sentimental about these young soldiers. But, when the moment came to say goodbye and good-luck to them, my male colleagues cried openly, as I buried my face in my shirtsleeves and fought back the tears, resolved that none should ever throw my gender in my face once the war was over."

 

"Though my mother died when I was very young, there is one thing I learnt from her early on. In life, you can only be true to yourself. The rest be damned. As I evolved into a journalist reporting on different issues, I found that some viewers and readers had a propensity to box you in with labels. My reporting on different conflict zones across the world has involved years spent reporting from Jammu and Kashmir. It is a state where, to borrow from Akira Kurosawa, there are at least seven shades of truth, if not more. The sacrifices of the military, of which I am a huge admirer, have co-existed with unforgivable human rights violations of which I am an outspoken critic."

" I HAVE BEEN HOMESICK FOR YOU SINCE WE MET. "

" HIS BODY SMELLED LIKE A PRECIOUS-WOOD FOREST; HIS HAIR, LIKE SANDALWOOD, HIS SKIN, LIKE CEDAR. IT WAS AS IF HE HAD ALWAYS LIVED AMONG TREES AND PLANTS. "

by Anaïs Nin, Little Bird

" I ACHED ALL OVER FOR HER; I LEANED MY HEAD IN HER BEAUTIFUL HAIR. HER LITTLE SHOULDERS DROVE ME MAD; I HUGGED HER AND HUGGED HER. AND SHE LOVED IT. ‘I LOVE LOVE,’ SHE SAID, CLOSING HER EYES. I PROMISED HER BEAUTIFUL LOVE. I GLOATED OVER HER. OUR STORIES WERE TOLD; WE SUBSIDED INTO SILENCE AND SWEET ANTICIPATORY THOUGHTS. IT WAS AS SIMPLE AS THAT. YOU COULD HAVE ALL YOUR PEACHES AND BETTYS AND MARYLOUS AND RITAS AND CAMILLES AND INEZES IN THIS WORLD; THIS WAS MY GIRL AND MY KIND OF GIRLSOUL, AND I TOLD HER THAT. "

by Jack Kerouac, On The Road

 'TAKE ME

NAKED,’

THE FLOWER SAID

TO THE SUN,

‘BEFORE

NIGHT

CLOSES

MY THIGHS.’ "

by Malcom de Chazal, Sens-Plastique

A letter to you, yes you.

And isn't this true in general of the pain that comes from personal relationships that don't work out: the agony of being rejected, the fear of accidents that might bereave us, the nightmare of seeing ourselves betrayed by those we had loved and trusted, and who now turn away and hurt us? What can be called a bad thing if it's not that sort of experience?

 I don't thinking am writing to you in the first place, don't take me wrong, but more than anything else I need a friend like you whom i could confide everything in - not necessary the good side of my life lived but also everything where i don't feel the need to censor myself, in a space which make me luminous with your success and that doesn't necessarily come upon with me being your wife or what so ever. Sometimes, some moments even strangers give you bizarre signals of relentless love which are or can be potentially unrequited.

you know, my nani died of a broken heart she was dependent on my nanu, she was living because he lived and they lived without desiring anyone else, all they needed was themselves to live by and bear this life. like all humans, they had acquired the will to live but not to end it so she decayed and decayed until the final day arrived when she wasn't there anymore. I never realised the shock of it, until i grew up and had no one to confide my sadness in, my parents concern was directly invested in my well being, i really couldn't afford to bear myself to them

Immediately after one graduates, one feels the blunt of not having one's close ones close by, something similar i went by realised life is fragile and you need to love someone to caress this fragility otherwise, it breaks you from inside.

we all aspire to do fancy things with someone we love, care and are concerned about - this is my way. I hope i continue feeling this nurtured emotion from times to come.

I'll select pleasant ones over dire ones; when it is open to me, I'll select being with interesting people who help me get along better over those of the boring, self-centered or deceitful kind; if I can choose, I'll select peace and stability over a life of strife and uncertainty — who wouldn't? But we're often not in a position to choose with respect to such external circumstances (external in the sense that they're outside our own control). Whatever depends on them is subject to risk and uncertainty.

Whosoever, fed that idea in my head of free will and determinism they all seem true at different points. which one to side by, is a paradox of choice, or tranny of choice, really ?

Your life is not a movie that can end with the images of the climactic moment — there is always a period after it, and though that may be fine if all this only was a project among others (you might enjoy being the CEO even more than you enjoyed becoming it, or use your status as the champion to work on training the young or become an ambassador for the environment), it's bad for you if it was the sole, defining purpose of your life, for this would mean that now you have a meaningless life on your hands.
years of life going by has made me prone to the slavish adherence the seeming thin balance, the truth is that we all figure somewhere in the middle and to decipher something from there can be a disastrous affair.

But i know one thing, that I want to do and be in my life - an exceptionally skilled conversationalist. After tea, I want to be able to walk around with holing a restful thought in my head.  Narrative pause,"Throughout our conversation, she occasionally touches my forearm. She speaks deliberately, pausing often. She laughs easily and heartily, a sign more of her warmth than of my wit. She has at her disposal what the best conversationalists have: a wealth of experience to draw from." If you hear this ever, its something I would like to be known by, do spare a thought. To be - Unfettered, to be capacitated to enjoy and relish the quirks and quiddities of life, gone past.  

A case of you - youtube collection

case of you - Joni Mitchell Cover

TBIP

Nishtha Jain’s documentary, Gulabi Gang - is about a group of rural women in Uttar Pradesh who fight for the rights of women and Dalits. Sampat Pal Devi formed Gulabi Gang in 2006 to combat corruption and crime against women. The group is named after its pink sari clad members who wield bamboo sticks and seek to bring about justice in a patriarchal society riddled with poverty, caste divisions, and crime. Here’s Nishtha Jain on why she chose to make this documentary, the process of making it, her relationship with Sampat Pal during and after shooting the film, and her views on the gang’s ideology. Gulabi Gang releases in India, in select cities, on February 21.

 

Garcia Grisman Rice - The Pizza Tapes - Shady Grove

Beyond the apparent

"That man, especially when he slept, when his features were motionless, showed me my own face, my mask, the flawlessly pure image of my corpse […] in a state of perfect repose, this resemblance was strikingly evident, and what is death, if not a face at peace – its artistic perfection? Life only marred my double; thus a breeze dims the bliss of Narcissus; thus, in the painter’s absence, there comes his pupil and by the superfluous flush of unbidden tints disfigures the portrait painted by the master."

[Vladimir Nabokov, Despair.]

 

R. Buckminster Fuller: "You have to decide whether you want to make money or to make sense because the two are mutually exclusive."

 

"Intelligence is unprincipled, but stupidity is honest and straightforward."

 

 

Silent grip of time

why “self-delusion is as much a part of the human condition as fingers and toes,”