“People think dreams aren’t real just because they aren’t made of matter, of particles. Dreams are real. But they are made of viewpoints, of images, of memories and puns and lost hopes.” Neil Gaiman’s words are haunting me today. Should I have called this ’13 Random Thoughts – Part 2’? I wonder. I have been wondering a lot lately. And weird things have been popping up…
- Once upon a time, I realised that clouds were not like cotton candy, were not fluffy, and I couldn’t float on them.
- And then I started to wonder… what if… what if there were such things as parallel universes? What if at this exact moment, when I’m typing this, another Me is flying to a country I (present me, that is) never knew existed? The other Me would be unveiling the conspiracies of cartographers (thank you, Mr. Stoppard!) while I keep losing myself in a myriad of words. I do hope my parallel self is as charming as I am, though. Just saying.
- I do not know if I believe in luck – an ephemeral temptress (read: mistress) who seems to always glide among the shadows, and remains unreachable, unlovable. Frustratingly so! Does not believing in something make it less real?
- People are always in a hurry. Where are you going? Which train (bus, if you’re in Mauritius) do you need to catch? And would calamity really befall if you missed it? Why can’t you be a few minutes late? If you can’t, why didn’t you leave earlier? I’m starting to compile a list of things that bother me. Watch this space for more.
- Chess aesthetics are a paradox or a weird combination of harmony, symmetry, and complication.
- One of my favourite words is ‘ethereal’. It evokes so many things in my mind, like an otherworldly scent of cherry blossoms and rainbows, things that make me happy, and a curious child. Language is mesmerising.
- Questions keep swinging across the playfield in my head, a tennis match of sorts, or rather, a Quidditch match of sorts. I am, for obvious reasons, the Seeker.
- I like to compartmentalise my thoughts. I open one drawer, read the notes, and then lock them up for another day. I wonder if I could compartmentalise the people I come across – preferably not in drawers, but there are some I would love to lock away for safeguarding, and some I would just love to lock out of my life forever.
- Gratitude is too often overlooked, because we feel that the world owes us what we have. Nobody owes us anything. This isn’t a business; it’s definitely not give-or-take, nor can it be an individualistic game. Something to try (do it, why try?): The gratitude jar: fill it up with positive things that happened to you over the year, and read them all on New Year’s eve, or anytime you feel like the entire weight of the world is on your shoulders.
- I cannot decide whether I’m sad or happy sometimes: can I be both, or is there a middle ground where I sit cross-legged and contemplate the mysteries that surround me? I don’t know, but it’s oddly calming. In the words of Tennessee Williams, “If I got rid of my demons, I’d lose my angels.”
- No matter where I go, I remain a believer: in beautiful things, in comforting words, in worthwhile moments, in poetry, and most importantly, in myself.
- There are some people who walk about, and it feels like it’s always raining on them – not just any kind of ordinary or torrential rain, but dimly-lit showers reminding one of joy bursting through an evening sky…
- It doesn’t take much to create beautiful chaos. It really doesn’t.
I’ve read that people have on average 70,000 thoughts per day. I wonder how many you had while reading these. This was supposed to be a fun post, but I guess it’s just one of those days.