Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Crooked Letters and Jumbled Words

Theres this thing i do - I never somehow , reread my work to check if there were errors. It seems unnatural , like a thought process that you are denying its birth , its originality, forcing it to re-live , to exist as per a later nerve impulse.

Needless to say, my blog posts are then , badly written, barely even making sense sometimes, and often , when i feel like reading them out to my long suffering room mate, I find myself changing words, or haltingly trying to convey that brilliant spark of my mind , that i scribbled onto the web last midnight while she tried to sleep.

I always plan to edit the post then, but even if i can convince mysef to do it , it seems like cheating , like doing over your life. And do-overs , are never positive, they are horrible messy things , that all of us want but never get.

I guess, this may seem like a sorry excuse to those who , by unhappy chances and habbits  read my blog (and i am very amazed at who does, because the page hits tell me , that some people , atleast do read this blog) for going through messy spellings and incoherent words and thoughts strung together , but somehow , it is so me , so even though , sanjukta i have never met you - you know me , so much more , because you have gone through this crap , though it doesnt make sense most of the time - i DONT make sense most of the time, and i refuse to live through a do-over.


P.S. this is a weird post - weird in the sheer banality of it. It still seems sincere somehow.

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