I live a second hand life. I like how words sound. And I know how to make sentences. I understood that good writing is not in using difficult words, but accurate words. I have had some education. An education that has made me a skeptic if I'm educated enough to be called an 'educated man'. Sometimes, accurate words are difficult and the term 'man' evokes yet another skeptic emotion in me, man enough to be an educated man. But then there is another thing to be effective. Clarity of vision, which I lack and seek to demonstrate. I've always needed a yardstick, maybe that is why I like the figures of zero and a flattened eight. For instance, how do you explain confusion to others. Or, how do you explain a confusing conundrum to someone else? A dictionary defined confusion to me as "a situation, when people do not understand what is happening, what they should do or who someone or something is" and I find that paradoxical; how can you pin point that 'IT is confusion' when you know that it is confusion? Nevertheless, I don't intend to confuse you, but only explain my confusion in a better way.

I've tried using my brain first hand too. But every time I tried, it hurt. It hurt like a virgin giving birth, hurting from the inside. Exploding from the inside, the pain that would make you claw yourself, just that you might touch it, get rid of it. But it is from the inside, and no matter what you do, you cannot reach it, you cannot touch it. You can either endure it till new life springs forth, or leave it, relinquish claim, forfeit the game. Indulge yourself in the jiggery-pokery of confounding words, perhaps like I often resort to. And funny that go from 'I' to 'you' without a break. But that is right, the 'I' is this, what you are reading, and 'you' is 'I' for whom this tirade is intended, when the speaker says 'you'. I've had this inside kind of sensation in other places too, like my throat, or stomach walls, which is more like a tickling which I cannot get rid of. But that's not the point. In fact there is no point in this. It is a pointless point which is just as true as my imagination. Here, let me show you a pointless point. But before it can make sense, you'll have to carry it to infinity and come back. Okay? Okay.

It seems like my life is meant to converge only after doing a round trip of the universe, there are no beelines for me. I don't know about you, but the more I look at this, the more I grow confident that this is the path which holds some certainty for me. Hence, I'm on this trip to nowhere, and back.

By the way, if you care to go to infinity carrying that pointless point, you might carry this as well, the effect will be the same.

Infinite heart

In case you want to tell me that you don't get it, rest assured, neither do I. :-)