Thought for the day

You’ve Got to Sell Your Heart
You’ve got to sell your heart, your strongest reactions, not the little minor things that only touch you lightly, the little experiences that you might tell at dinner. This is especially true when you begin to write, when you have not yet developed the tricks of interesting people on paper, when you have none of the technique which it takes time to learn. When, in short, you have only your emotions to sell.

F. Scott Fitzgerald

Courtsey: http://www.advicetowriters.com/home/2013/5/27/youve-got-to-sell-your-heart.html

between you and me

He is the one always brimming with ideas, the one who can spin yarns in a go, and keep me hooked while walking me through his many plots. And so, when he breaks down and tells me he can't write for there is no story he can conjure up, I can only look at him helplessly and ask, "But where have all the stories gone?"
He lifts up his head, looks me in the eye, and says with love, "They are now within you."

for a ride

(Day Six)

They say, after a point, you reach that age when you stop believing in miracles. But what if you were the kind of kid who always knew the magician was cheating, in some way invisible to you, when he pulled doves and bouquets out of hats? You would preen your neck, peep under the table, and hope to catch him cheating...for you refused to be fooled. All your life you turned the world down because you refused to let them take you for a ride. And now here you are, hoping for a little bicycle to come by, so someone would take you for a ride; wishing you could feel the gentle breeze, enjoy the shallow talk, have popcorn, and then when they let you off, turn back and tell them with an earnest smile, "Thank you for the ride, dear!"

a broker of tales

(Day Five)

tell me your tales

and i shall listen

give you

all my attention

gaze into your eyes

and 

prod you 

into revealing

the secrets

of your depths.

tonight,

you must talk

and i 

shall listen.

tell me 

everything

that is there

to be told

i promise

not to judge

or pass comment

but only 

to nod 

and gaze

and try

to understand

tell me your stories

for 

i am

merely

a broker of tales

listening

and 

passing on

what is yours

as mine.

to be

Day Three

to be detached, to be cut off from the rest of the world, to be suspended in thin air, with no worldly chords, by choice or otherwise..to float, to wander, to be lost, and not to go looking for directions or guiding stars...to not to be part of the now or the future, to not belong, to float, to be, to just be, to be here this moment, and be gone the next, to float, to wander, to drift along the waves, to go with the breeze, to run with the storm, to be wet in the rain, to swelter in the sun, to just be, but not to belong, to laugh, to cry, to not think, to say, to not hold back, to hug, to kiss, to not come back, to go, to love, to dream, to stare, to gaze, but not to look, not for anything, just to see, to peep, to turn away, to know, to not to understand, to hold hands, and lock lips, to make love without promises, to have no promises to keep, no goals to achieve, to make love, to laugh, to be, just be, to walk away, to not look back, to look back and to walk away, to smile with the steps, to go, to go, to go, to go, to go, and to go nowhere, to be just be, just be, just be......

Reassurance

Day Two

He tells her they shouldn't give up now..that they could create something beautiful, they would. The little distances don't matter for what they had was beautiful, unique, not to be squandered away....that it would only lead to regrets if they let it go, and both of them did not want any of those painful, nagging, what-could-have-been tormentors. She smiles and nods. She knows, but pretends not to. She likes it this way - his holding the hand, his warm eyes, his reassurances. 

New Post

..and you hit the new post button...and key in, not write...not about the things that you want to write...not about the things that are on your mind all the time...but lesser important, non-existent things...because once written, words have a sort of permanence..the kind of permanence you think you are not yet ready for....you would rather drift..and let some unimportant words be...like these... and you write just because you want to write, you want to hear the sound of keys on the keyboard, and the words coming on your screen...and just to hit the publish button, and tell yourself, you have written..