Since I already posted my warmth photo in different light, for mystery, I decided to take a new approach.
The most mysterious thing to me is the human mind. Nothing too technical; it just baffles me how people sometimes work and think. For instance, it’s Saturday – which is officially a holiday – but I see a lot of my colleagues working as they do on a warm Tuesday afternoon. There’s always work to do, yes, but it matters how you prioritize your work and personal life. But here they are, emerged in their daily tasks, as if working through the weekend will reduce the workload.
So here’s the mystery: why do people work throughout the weekend, when instead, they could be enjoying cold coffee on the beach?
I guess I’ll never see their logic.
Also, I’ve edited the photo to give it a touch of mystery – what do you think?
Cleaning is a tedious task. I hate cleaning and setting things in order. My room in particular. Chaos is peace; when everything’s in order, I just lose myself.
Besides, who’d clean, instead of all the other things you can do? I’d rather sit and stare into space, or procrastinate, or sleep, or listen to some music. Anything to get away from the chore.
So you can imagine my thrill when I stumbled upon this little poem.
Dust if you must, but wouldn’t it be better
To paint a picture, or write a letter,
Bake a cake, or plant a seed;
Ponder the difference between want and need?
Dust if you must, but there’s not much time,
With rivers to swim, and mountains to climb;
Music to hear, and books to read;
Friends to cherish, and life to lead.
Dust if you must, but the world’s out there
With the sun in your eyes, and the wind in your hair;
A flutter of snow, a shower of rain,
This day will not come around again.
Dust if you must, but bear in mind,
Old age will come and it’s not kind.
And when you go (and go you must)
You, yourself, will make more dust.
Such a simple thought — spend time doing what matters — yet so full of meaning.
Lazy bones. That’s what people used to call me. My life happened mostly after sun down — no, I’m not the party kind. I’m more of a solo act. I read, write, watch movies or just lie awake in bed way past midnight.
Now though, I have trouble staying awake past 10 pm.
That’s because I awake at 4 am everyday. And despite people telling me repeatedly that I’m crazy, I continue to wake up early, and go to work — see that’s why people call me nuts, because I go to work at 6 am when the rest of my colleagues don’t show up until after 10.
I don’t care though. Ever since I started waking up early, I’ve been experiencing the subtleties of nature that the rest of the world sadly misses.
I’ve been there — I’ve lived in that precise moment that it takes for the light to appear in the sky. It only takes about 5 minutes to go from darkness to bright, and it’s amazing how quickly it all happens.
And all the while, the moon sits majestically on the clouds surveying the world, preparing to sink back into the sky. I’ve seen the moonrise countless times to say that the moonset is equally beautiful, particularly the night after a full moon.
And the sunrise — how can I forget that? In as little at 15 minutes, the sun and the sky around it change rapidly. The entire process lasts for about an hour — wherein every 5 minutes, the sun’s position, color and grandeur are so beautifully diverse. I try taking photos, but I’m nowhere a match to nature’s design — I simply can’t share the beauty with those who are asleep when the sun shows up.
The sunrise on three different days and times
Just knowing that I enjoy both the moon and the sun within an interval of 1 to 1 1/2 hours — is a joy beyond words. It’s bliss.
Who’d feel like sleeping after seeing what I’ve seen? That’s what motivates me to wake up early everyday. Knowing what I’m about to see during my walk to work, and thereafter is an impetus I can’t resist.
P.S — Even while writing this, I could feel my lips widening in a smile. Here I am at work, typing away and smiling at my screen like a nutter, when everyone else I know is snoozing!
Ninety eight, ninety nine, hundred… “Phew!” Setting the dumbbells on the floor, he rested his hands on his hips seeing himself on the mirror. Unsatisfied, he shook his head and picked up the dumbbells again.
Sipping on his protein shake, his movements attuned to Akon’s latest single, he past an old woman carrying her monthly grocery. She struggled with the heavy packages, and he whistled past without a backward glance.
A little boy stopped on his way to school and offered to help the old woman. She beamed. “Thank you, young man!”
Another short story for my Flash Fiction collection. Also, National Blog Posting Month – #Day6
I love Pinterest. Because it fuels my multiple fandom needs. Facebook – well, not so much. Because that takes it all a little too far.
What is with fandoms that makes the hair in my neck stand erect, in utmost attention? And what is that feeling that leaves my spine tingling? Even I know it’s not that cold where I live. It’s the feeling of being satisfied by an image, a quote, a photo or a simple not-so-exact reference to a popular fandom.
I love BBC’s Sherlock. And the Backstreet Boys, Westlife, Harry Potter, Friends, The Big Bang Theory – the list goes on.
When I see a photo of Benedict Cumberbatch on a Facebook page I’ve liked, it makes me smile. It reminds me of Sherlock’s wit and Benedict’s acting. But I’d like to leave it that way. Simple.
Nowadays though, all I see are posts of Benedict’s photos with captions of how handsome he is, describing him as a cutie-pie, or a cherry blossom – or whatever crap.
And that’s annoying.
Admins of these pages use my interest in the show to manipulate me into ‘liking’ posts and even believing stuff my sane-self knows to be bull shit.
Something similar happened with the BSB – troll posts and all other fake people posting from their name – social networks became painful. It’s like they have to do whatever it takes to entertain their fans – even if it means stripping themselves naked. It all feels wrong and immature – perhaps it’s just me – but I don’t want to spend my day staring at old photos of the BSB, following them to recordings, sharing a vehicle, selfies or meals. That doesn’t mean I don’t like the BSB but I’d rather sit home enjoying some of their greatest music.
Using the natural affection for someone, or something seems to me like a cheap way of earning bucks. It’s like porn – the more you see this stuff, the more addicted you get and the higher the chances you participate in that fandom. Isn’t that the lowest level of insult possible?
I respect my fandoms enough to know where to draw the line.
