Some things are for sure:
sunrise, sunset, rent next month—
like clockwork is life.
I’ve signed up for the Incredible Blogger Marathon Challenge. It’s a ten-task-challenge that can span up to fifteen days. This post is my response to the fourth challenge: Hunt a Haiku. The challenge is to write an interpretation of the following haiku:
the sun will set slow
people go home for shelter
sun will rise again
Why would anyone leave the house without a paperclip in his pocket? BuzzFeed knows my age, my zodiac sign, and my favourite colour based on how long I stayed online. High tide or a low tide, I’ll be by your side with a can of beer and a plate of fish. According to Facebook, today is world toilet day, but a friend of mine posted that it’s men’s day. A party without champagne is a conversation without a meaning. I spent a fortune on a single course and a lifetime wondering why. Want a wedding dress, hardly used? I’m under a moral obligation to keep to the code. Death by chocolate — still a better love story than Twilight. Let’s hit the road.
I’ve signed up for the Incredible Blogger Marathon Challenge. It’s a ten-task-challenge that can span up to fifteen days. This post is my response to the third challenge: Risk for a Random. The challenge is to write ten sentences that have no connection to one another.
Think brothers, sisters, and friends since childhood. Think Sponge Bob and Patric, some nuts and spice. Think Pisces and Scorpios. Or Apple and Steve. Think Holmes with his Watson, rum and some raisins. Think PB and jelly sandwiches, or mac and cheese for dinner. Think red think full, think white and light, and wine while you dine. Think chocolate with chocolate, pumpkin in a pie, or just tea and cake. Think toddlers with paint, and teenagers with selfie sticks. Think plays and Shakespeare. Think Wyatt and Surrey, and a cupboard underneath the stairs. Think blueberry and pancakes, bacon and eggs. Or, just you and I — the perfect match.
I’ve signed up for Prakash’s Incredible Blogger Marathon Challenge. It’s a ten-task-challenge that can span up to fifteen days. This post is my response to the first challenge: Phrase a Paragraph.
So many of my friends had told me about the wonderfulness that’s 1984. The book, I mean.
I, however, never had the chance to read the book, until now. I started reading it a while ago, and as much as I’d love to get through it in one sitting, reality keeps distracting me. Nevertheless, every chance I get, I try to sneak in a page or two in the least. And with every page I turn, I turn over a new perspective.
I haven’t even crossed a hundred pages yet, and yet every statement hits me hard in the face making me glad I’m not in 1984. To say that Orwell has a way with words is an understatement. He twists and warps simple words to suit his needs and instills fear and aversion in the reader.
As a lover of words myself, when I took in words that claimed it was a beautiful thing to destroy the words themselves, I felt my deepest horrors renewed.
After all, what justification is there for a word which is simply the opposite of some other words?
That’s a way of looking at words, unlike any way I’d come to accept. Words, for me, are not just means of expression but also means of expression in every wild way imaginable. It’s wonderful that we have so many different words describing the same thing; it’s what gives rise to rhyming words and rhythmic prose and just plain readable writing.
In the end the whole notion of goodness and badness will be covered by only six words — in reality, only one word. Don’t you see the beauty of that, Winston?
I don’t. I don’t see the beauty of it, and instead, I see only the barrenness of it. What’s the point of communication if you can’t communicate as you’d like to? If we could strip down the English language to a mere handful, then that would become the end of human interaction. We’d speak to convey messages and not ideas. We’d talk sense but wouldn’t talk from our senses. We’d think we’re free to speak, without realising we’re free from language itself.
The book throws terrifying ideas. It outlines everything that could go wrong with the world, and everything that could happen as a consequence. And shocked though I am, it makes me want to keep reading.
“Hey, Jude! Did you hear? Hilary lost, Trump won!”
Oh hey, Jason. Trump won, you say? That’s such a surprise. When did this happen, anyway? I must’ve been living under a rock or something. I can’t believe I didn’t know he won. Well, it’s not like I had stayed up watching the three debates live or had discussed with my friends in the US about Trump’s chances. No, thanks so much for letting me know that Trump won the election. You’re my only news source. I wouldn’t have known otherwise.
By the way, how’s that project coming along? Do you realise that our client doesn’t care about the outcome of this election? How far are we on that?
Oh, we haven’t started yet? That’s brilliant. No, that’s fine, we can tell them it’d take a while. After all, we were busy watching the US elections and so was the whole world — our Russian client won’t mind at all. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get back to my email.
What’s that? Oh, you just watched Trump’s speech on YouTube? Cool. Huh, the comments say he was high? Well, I don’t know. And you know what, maybe I don’t care. He was scary, you say? Sure, it’s not like I watched his speech live or anything but whether he smokes or not is his problem. Nope, I did not watch the recorded version. You think it was better than watching him live?
Anyway, thanks for the chat. I had been working for ten minutes straight and needed a fifteen-minute power break. By the way, since you know so much about the elections, do you know when Trump’s signing in as president?
Well, that’s weird. How come you didn’t know that there would be an official peaceful transition of power? You’ve been so religious about the election news so far today that I thought you’d know. Anyway, never mind. I guess it’s on the 20th of January. Well, it doesn’t matter anyway, check your mail. The client just emailed us asking for the report. Would you reply to them? And don’t forget to tell them you were busy with the elections.
The Chaos Within 