Skip to main content

I will be the most intellectual and poised novelist, writer, thinker , poet and cinematic director

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Reminiscence of the forgotten

Confines  of the essence. Giving a scent of changing effervescence. When nothing makes sense. Going feral trying to construct bounds, building a big fence. But the effervescence of the changing seasons marks the end. When the fervor melts. Thing which once were started to lose its essence. A sense of dread seems to have no end. Every last relic of the ever present's presence's remains absent. Everything goes in shambles. Trading the places with the one who writes fables. When an instantiation becomes the writer. It couldn't end all the things which were. Depth of an instantiation fall short off the essential. Their impacts aren't pivotal. Only a reminder of a power. Which could be harnessed by the unjaded.  

Alchemist and the bar

There's a pot of poison hidden deep within our closets of heart. It afflicted our lives from the very start . There is no path, which could let us find that bar where we could break that pot from deep trenches of our hearts. There's an alchemist inside that bar who is mixing and playing with our insecurities and flaws. Trying to mix that poison of pot. Making us gradually rot after every shot.Making us feel dizzy, uneasy.At that moment everything seems easy. Believing in everything we can't see.Enticing us into it's frangnance and spells. As he comes from the lands of mysteries and illusions.There's no way for him to get  caught as he disguise himself into various forms. One fine day I got myself an antidote by abstaining my wish to reach the shore where our worlds could merge and eventually found  effects of the poison purge as I mixed the anti dote with every shot. ~Atharva Salpekar