After about 3 years since I have started uploading the stuff I write to fend off the evil within me into this blog, I am here to make an alteration... Nay, to completely modify the preamble to this hellhole in which I had stated long back that this would be something to check the sensibility and rightness of my perspectives.
In course of the three years that followed, this blog went all zigzag reflecting my mood swings, turmoils in my psyche and the petty triumphs and defeats at various phases of my life.
In that way, I admit that there is no point at all in correcting something which has lost all its relevance in those wild fluctuations that the entire blog underwent. Anyway, the heat and blinding light from the slanted rays of the April afternoon sun trapped by the translucent glass window of my room instilled a couple of realisations in me along with a severe headache. I’m here to share them, for I believe that gloom is something that the world deserves to have a share of.
What I realised was that there is no spoon. No right perspectives and no wrong perspectives. You can bend it according to your whims since there isn’t one. The whole realisation thing was easy because I myself had a split personality and all I had to do was throw a perspective at them and watch the creepy assholes battling fiercely trying to kill each other over it.
While the translucent window was busy, I was lying on the bed drenched in sweat listening to “The room on top of the stairs” and suddenly I realised that it was not a beautiful country song about ethereal love, but a veiled narrative of how an asshole frequently took a chick upstairs and nailed her. The splits fought about it for a while till I declared the verdict that it could be anything.
You see, that’s the whole difficulty. The fucking perspectives bend. They bend sideways, forward, behind or even go for a full circle.
So what’s the point?
What’s the point in writing about the freakin’ perspectives?
Therefore, no more spoon talk from now on.