Some days, I just want to lie down trying to drown the noise of tasks not completed and reports not submitted under the turbulent sea of thoughts that provide a camouflage. I am doing fine.
Some days are like the rain on a parched Earth. They bring little joys like the sky turning crimson and the air behaving like a vagabond. As I listen to words from my favourite poem repeating itself in how this world works, I am filled with an awe.
Miles to go before I sleep.
Often on days like these I find myself in the company of books and coffee: the most delicious combination one ever thought of! Books are the refuge you settle down to take when every other attempt to escape fails. Yet when lost in imaginary lands or contemporary cities, in stories that might’ve been true, in characters that are a figment of someone’s imagination I experience a feeling so real and unlike what the physical world around us can provide!
Imagination at short notice is my specialty.
If books could talk, I could let them be, on shelves. And I imagine, as I, like a hypocrite, browsed through suitors, Austen would tell me the truth universally acknowledged to which Sherlock would reply with an appropriate piquant retort. They’d never get along well, actually.
I find the ordinary very amusing. It makes me want to look for something that we miss when we reject it as mundane.
Believe me, great beauty is to be found in the unremarkable. You only have to look.