Any body who knows me, knows that I’m a sucker for deep thoughts and meaningful conversations. And somehow, thankfully, I was able to find two such idiots to share this obsession with. Therefore, I thought of asking them some thought provoking questions, to see their reactions and understand them better. Because, obviously, I had nothing better to do. It was kind of like my own personal experiment and the two idiots were my lab rats.
The previous week was kind of very depressingly monotonous. I was demotivated almost throughout the whole week, I didn’t feel good, I didn’t perform well in a test I had on Sunday and I was just sad. I kept comparing myself to everyone else; comparing my failures to their successes because I’m a bloody buffoon. Last week, basically, wasn’t nice.
“Yes, my consuming desire is to mingle with road crews, sailors and soldiers, barroom regulars—to be a part of a scene, anonymous, listening, recording—all this is spoiled by the fact that I am a girl, a female always supposedly in danger of assault and battery. My consuming interest in men and their lives is often misconstrued as a desire to seduce them, or as an invitation to intimacy. Yes, God, I want to talk to everybody as deeply as I can. I want to be able to sleep in an open field, to travel west, to walk freely at night…”
― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath
He clothed his motives in the names of virtue, and I have wondered whether he ever knew that, no gift will ever buy back a man’s love when you have removed his self-love.
~John Steinbeck, East Of Eden
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches loosely onto the withered soul
And sings a melodious tune
Without the need of tough words
Nor meaning, this sweetest sound,
Seems endless like the curling of tides
With much rhythm but no reason
In the harsh gale is heard.
Sorely greedy must be the storm
That could dare to abash the little bird
That kept so very many undead corpses warm
And resurrected them anew.
So ruthlessly greedy must be the storm
That it took away the music which
I’ve heard in the chilliest land and
On the strangest sea
Which yet, never in extremity
Asked a crumb of me.
NaPoWriMo April 2015 Day 5 prompt: Today’s exercise asks you to do something similar, but in the interests of creativity, rather than ill-conceived “correction.” Find an Emily Dickinson poem – preferably one you’ve never previously read – and take out all the dashes and line breaks. Make it just one big block of prose. Now, rebreak the lines. Add words where you want. Take out some words. Make your own poem out of it!
The poem I chose is called ‘Hope’ is a thing with feathers by Emily Dickinson
Did you like it? Did you not like it? Was it reconstructed enough or just copy pasted? Let me know what you think about it. Have a splendid day y’all!
When an apple fell on Newton’s head, he didn’t curse and throw the apple away. He didn’t blame God or condemn his fate for sitting in the exact same spot where an apple would fall on him and disrupt his concentration. Instead, he embraced the situation and let his thoughts run wild. Isaac Newton, from that moment onwards started his journey towards discovering gravity. From letting his imagination fly away, with no limitations or boundaries, he found the force that grounds us. Only through the power of imagination, he found something that later on gave him his identity.
Imagination is exciting. It is pure, unique and only a few have the energy to know its full strength. When let loose, it can carry us to a whole new world which we never thought existed. It gives us a vision which instead of narrowing things down like a telescope, widens our perspective, showing us things which our little, insignificant, devoid of imagination human minds couldn’t have possible even thought of. Imagination helps us cope, dream, grow and create worlds filled with contentment, hope and ambition. Its power helps us get lost to find ourselves again.
However, what most people think is that through imagination, one looses themselves completely to a utopian world which will never exist – that they lose their connection to the real world. Some even argue that imagination doesn’t help people because it’s unrealistic and highly idealistic. But what these cynical humans fail to understand is that this world cannot function without the help from other worlds – the worlds which exist in creative peoples’ minds. Poets, artists, writers, scientists, all would perish had it not been for their imagination. Galileo was called mad and was executed for taking his stance against the blind believes of the Church. However, had it not been for him, we would still be oblivious to the wonderful galaxies and creations that exist outside the Earth.
Moreover, imagination instead of diverting us from reality, allows our inner creativeness to find another hidden trail in the dense forest of life which helps lead us to our destination in a better, different and more efficient way. Our imagination may make us day dream during our science or maths classes but it still gives rise to a notebook filled with drawing, sketches, doodles, poems or even another best-selling novel.
Therefore, most people need to believe and understand that imagination – a little offspring of wonder and creativity isn’t handicapped but a wise trait which can begin or end a revolution.