"Writing has created a space for me to express innocence. No other world has any use for it." - Natasha Badhwar.
And so, here I am, writing, rambling, wandering through a hundred thousand thoughts that fill my mind and create a joyous bustling cacophony, exploring and sorting through them, and understanding myself better.
At the moment I'm reading Kerouac. He says a writer should imitate the writing style of the greats until he growns into his own. This phase of my writing has a definite Kerouac influence - galloping from word to word, thought to thought, in long-winded sentences.
It's also a life-phase where, like him, I'm "thrashing in a thousand twenty-one-year-old agonies" not "at the horror of this world" but at the rejections and disenchantments of my life. Precious trifle compared to him, and yes, twenty one years in age too. No matter if numerical ages match here. My mind, and the life experiences I'm having, are all of twenty one.
Sauntering farther in my field of thoughts, Kerouac lampoons that one cannot just run off a broken leg to have it heal. Well, maybe you can't just unbreak a heart too.
This, all of this, sets the tone of this period of my life. But here's another wonderful line by a poet that Badhwar quoted recently - "Be joyful, though you have considered the facts." An apt closing.