In the words of Da Vinci

"Iron rusts from disuse, stagnant water loses its purity and in cold becomes frozen, even so does inaction sap the vigors of the mind."

Just revving up

Just discovered that when you try to write after an immodereately long hiatus, words seem to adumbrate into the deepest crevices of your mind....a writer's block - the five dollar word for the uncanny phenomenon....but when you try to haul them out of their clandestine abode you end up createing a semblance, an illusion of expression that depicts nothing but nothing. And what's a better muse than nothing!

What makes you bewildered?

does the sunshine falling on a dew that just learned to drop to its unknown flight, hold your attention? or do you see your dreams and hopes held, in the fast and savage world? does silence hold your attention, more than constant noise? does life seems more free in the wild, than in the souls living in buildings high-rise? after traveling so far on wearied feet, sit down, take a break, and take a few steps into yourself.

the journey of life should be small steps towards the mirage this world holds,

but an endless dive inside the self with no hope of return.