Tuesday, October 30, 2007

When I pause to reason my life, I lose some reason from it.

What about a mentally tormented writer? What about him?
Does a writer need to emotionally empty himself to write objectively? Does he need to be devoid of any likes or dislikes whatsoever?
I am still looking for answers. But here is an image that I have seen again and again.
Somewhere near the heart. I don't know where exactly that is present in terms of anatomy. I remember from a past biology class somewhere to the left, and I locate it more accurately but sensing its beats. Growing faster with every minute. A steel claw that so closely resembles a human skeleton. Fluid in motion, it starts picking at the "heart" with surgical dexterity. The pain increases steadily but in a steep graph. Nerve ends spark together and apart pushing at the tolerance limit. My other heart (which one is this again?) pains and blood of a different kind seeps out. A white shiny liquid - clear and fragrant. I suddenly think if unicorn blood. And that's the last thought.

I don't know why this image is a Robin Cook/Sci-fi/overlapping one. But it is.

Color: A white - shiny and clear.
Song: I can feel the magic floating in the air, being with you makes me that way.
(Why can't I recall anything else about this song)


Bala said...
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Karthik said...


Deepika said...



For which one of the questions?

And do I know you?