I am losing my sleep over a stupid poem that I shouldn't have written in the first place. I hurt a lot of people today and am feeling extremely bad about it. The worst part is that they are keeping quiet about it. If they had come and quarrelled with me, I would have felt more at peace with myself. Even that pleasure has been denied to me. Their dignified silence is aggravating my insomania.
Oh! Wretched me! I am here to atone for my sin - my conscience does not stop for a second while accusing me of hurting the feelings of my fellow beings! What do I do? I dare not apologise to them in public, for I do not know how they are going to take it.
The problem is, sometimes I can't seem to understand what I am doing. Hope those fellows will understand and forgive me. I am feeling really miserable.
Thursday 11 October 2007
Saturday 6 October 2007
I don't know
Quite honestly, I do not know what I should write about. Life right now seems to be like a ship going through perfectly calm waters, sailing with the gentle breeze, so gentle that I fear I might get stranded.
I do not seem to have any problem in my life right now, which worries me as I have nothing else to worry about. Except for a few words with mom - she objects to my reading books (novels) for almost the entire time I spend at home.
Completed reading 'The Tin Drum'. My Lord, what a book! It is so powerful, with not a single word wasted, each won carrying a deep meaning that I was going snail pace with it. I couldn't keep it down, I have never come across a book like that, and I don't think there would be a book like that ever again. No wonder he won the Nobel Prize. I thought I would write a summary, but, no, I don't like to make an atrocious image of that spellbinding book just to satisfy my whims. Reading it was an exercise to the intellect. Wonder how anyone can write like that! Genius of first order!
Meanwhile, on all other fronts, life continues as usual.
I do not seem to have any problem in my life right now, which worries me as I have nothing else to worry about. Except for a few words with mom - she objects to my reading books (novels) for almost the entire time I spend at home.
Completed reading 'The Tin Drum'. My Lord, what a book! It is so powerful, with not a single word wasted, each won carrying a deep meaning that I was going snail pace with it. I couldn't keep it down, I have never come across a book like that, and I don't think there would be a book like that ever again. No wonder he won the Nobel Prize. I thought I would write a summary, but, no, I don't like to make an atrocious image of that spellbinding book just to satisfy my whims. Reading it was an exercise to the intellect. Wonder how anyone can write like that! Genius of first order!
Meanwhile, on all other fronts, life continues as usual.
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