Sad reality

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Criticise the living day lights out me,if you will.

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A desire to be a smile maker.

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         Apart from the very first two stories I posted on my blog, stuff here has been pretty thought provoking and serious. If you plan to read the lighter side go here :  The 50 mosquitoes  and  My little pranksters journal  (These might be a little hard to read since back then I was a very rough writer, I think I still am but ... oh well)       It's not like I don't want to write joyous and giddy stuff, on the contrary,I love humour and it hurts me that I struggle so badly writing it out. I play the joker everyday, so to live it, Seriously I get fits of randomness..... I got proof man, see picture to the right. Erm.....  Okaaay  ...perhaps... uh... yeah possibly.... I am no  Chaplin, Jim or Ellen. I don't claim to be them either... Oh look, a random alien hovering. Perhaps A little Chaplin, A greener and mushier version of Chaplin ? Meh, Least I go green.    ...
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Differences that hurt us.

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The one mean thing we do to ourselves is: we compare. We are never truly happy with what we have, and that is basic human nature for most of us; being receptive, critical and comparative, is one apparent quality that reflects this notion. Certainly, being inspired is a perk, but engulfing our accomplices' traits, not to indubitably 'add' to our characters but to have it fight with what we already are, is dangerous. It leaves us with a sense of inferiority and in turn, upsets us heavily. We are  suppose  to be individuals, with our own set of problems and blessings, and all with varying degrees. And it's meant to be explored, build-on and embraced. What we mostly do, is we fail to  take this first step and readily jump onto other sources of inspiration.  Just like two fingerprints, that are never the same, we can't blade our personalities to match that of others, so why bother?  Just like two fingerprints, that are never the same, we can't blade our pers...
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Try

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Somewhere around 8th or 9th standard, we were issued to buy a book with a collection of poems for our English class. Unlike many other school books that pass us  by every year like trash (sadly) does , this book is one of the few that remained attached to me. And to-date is very much a part of both, my shelf and my self. Today, as I am reminded of how little I am , and how grand life is; I'd like to share a poem from that book. I do not know whether it is the poem itself that attracted me, or the fact that like everyone, I found a connection in it that I so needed at that point of my life. Which ever the case may be, this is it : Try Again 'Tis a lesson you should heed, try again; if at first you don't succeed,  try again; then your courage should appear, for if you will persevere, you will conquer, never fear try again; Once or twice, though you should fail, try again; if you would at last prevail, try again; if we strive, 'tis no dis...
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