Too much is made out of future and it's so called mysteries....i am more in love with the past...isn't it more fascinating to think about all the time one has spent so far.... 1.19 million minutes have passed through me ...(Ya..ya i spent 1 more trying to calculate it !!) ...each one like a small ripple...small yet unmistakably potent...minute minutes that shaped me.....all those impulsive decisions that clicked..all those well-thought that boomeranged..all those where i was/wasn't/ a mute spectator.Smiling to myself, i can spend hours i guess.... it's not like i have had an outstanding childhood or adolescence but you know it has been my life..so whatever little twists and turns there are, am completely absorbed in it...
Whereas there seems to be nothing in future... nothing i can dream about....having wilfully bred a contempt for the ordinary, i have very few things left worth dreaming...and i don't feel like trying to enlarge what my neighbour has done and pass it off as an achievement..
Hence...future will have very little to surprise me...cause what it'll offer me... I'll treat it as below par or simply something that i cannot be proud about and and whatever little i want to be proud about,for obvious reasons won't be offered to me....Whereas there seems to be nothing in future... nothing i can dream about....having wilfully bred a contempt for the ordinary, i have very few things left worth dreaming...and i don't feel like trying to enlarge what my neighbour has done and pass it off as an achievement..
so i walk looking backwards however ridiculous it might sound ..each step revealing to me things that i have happened upon, rather than walk wishing such and such thing would happen to me...
