The Mundane Artist

"Where the love laws lay down who should be loved. And how. And how much."   - The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy    

WGrayson7: well, i agree that "trial and error" is a pretty pessimistic name for it. and maybe that's what it is most of the time.    WGrayson7: but i think the point is that it's not just try-error.    WGrayson7: most of the time it's try-error-try.   WGrayson7: try-error-try   WGrayson7: try-error-try   WGrayson7: and that's how you find it.   willupleasebequiet: it?    WGrayson7: you know. it .   willupleasebequiet: yeah, it .   willupleasebequiet: try-error-try-it   WGrayson7: well...i haven't become that optimistic .   Wgrayson7: it's more like try-error-try-error-try-error-try-error-try-error-try...at least fifteen more rounds...then try-error-try- it . -Will Grayson and Will Grayson, Will Grayson, Will Grayson by John Green and David Levithan. 

I lay on the hard concrete. It is night time and I have so much work to do. But I still lay here. Looking at the same sky, at the same stars and the same moon that you are looking at and that makes me realise how further connected we are than just the wireless connection that we explicitly have. You may not be thinking the same thoughts as I am; you may not even be thinking about me, but like how I exist at the back of your mind, the sky and the stars and the moon are like the back of your mind to remind you we are always connected because it's what the universe wants; and believe it or not the universe supports you all the time. It's us that complicates simple things, and it's us that doesn't support ourselves and others as much as we need to.  I lay on the hard concrete. It is night time and I have so much work to do. But I still lay here. I'm wondering if you're wondering whether I'm wondering wherein reality you can pick up your phone and connect. Th...

i sit at my window sill on an early rainy morning.  i stare down at my empty cup filled with hot, steaming tea priorly i am hypnotised.  i can hear the raindrops fall on my roof i can feel the presence  of the sheltered birds  i am hypnotised.   i look up from my stupor  to fall into another  the fairy lights on my neighbour's window  i am hypnotised.  my eyes shift to  the next movement  the swaying of trees  in unity  i am hypnotised.  the sound of thunder, a flash of lightning the earth tries to  shake me out of my stupor i am hypnotised.  i sit with the cup still in my hand  i sit next to  a broken dream  i am hypnotised. 

There’s a door at the end of the corridor. It’s not dark. But only a part of the corridor is lit with lights. The other half is dark. I am standing at the other end. I am so curious. There are people coming and going occasionally. It doesn’t bother me though. I walk slowly. I have never been here before. There is a squash court downstairs. Two of the courts are being used. A girl of no more than 16 years, plays vigorously in the first court. She’s wearing a red shirt and track pants of black. This game makes a lot of noise, I think to myself. I don’t know much about it. It resembles tennis. But of course they’re different. Come to think of it, it’s actually the first time I have seen this game. I walk further. Before I can turn to see the occupants of the last court (as the second of the two was the last one in use), I get distracted. A drop of water falls behind me and makes a sound. I turn around and look at the small puddle of water I just passed unknowingly. I look up ...

Breath Visible in the cold evening Next to me. We look in front Without distraction Deep in thought Yet Aware of each other’s presence; Two strangers. Crickets chirping; People walking In their coats and mufflers and gloves. In the oddest way, In the 21 st century, Their silence Met And They fell in love With each other’s silence In the 21 st century. Smiles crept up on our faces, As we left Nameless.

"The Love of Two Stars Two stars fell in love. Between them came sky And ten moons and two suns riding high,   Before them the nebulous star-crusted Way,  The silence of Night, the silver of Day.    A million years passed, the lovers still glowed   With the brilliance and fire and passion of old,   But one star grew restless and set off at night    With a wonderful shower of hot white light.    He sped to his love, with his hopes and his fears,   But missed her, alas, by a thousand light-years. " -Ruskin   Bond's Book of Verse .