Blabbering...

I'm weaving a story. The number of hitting backspace has surpassed the number of words written. I'm agitated, I think.

I'm thinking, thinking hard but there's hardly any scenario I can remember. I usually twist real life incidents by my imagination and give them shape of fiction. Sometimes my writings are just rage or disappointment. Disappointment usually takes the shape of rage. I hate this word Rage. I hate the word Hate. I don't like these words but still practice them in real life. 

Again I hit the backspace, this time I hit it so hard that whatever I wrote get erased. It seems that weaver needs rest. But why? When are we ever allowed to rest? How hard we might try to present our progressive mindset but the reality is we don't ever leave our backward thinking. By backward, I mean we judge others through the lenses of prejudice. What our family/ societal environment inculcate in us, it's hard to get rid of that. We want to be modest, or atleast want them to see and feel we're cultured, work according to their rules. Unconsciously we start judging those who aren't like us, who aren't following the path which is considered as cool or one can say traditional. There's a fake superior feeling in following the rules someone else has set for us. When someone do it in their own way, our ego does get hurt.

I've left the idea of writing for a while and lost in the world of slumber. Maybe after coming back from that world I'll be able to calm the ghosts and to weave a story.