writers-on-writing

Practical affairs task the human brain throughout the day. At night, the mind takes a deserved hiatus to consider the impossible and the absurd. In the carnage of our nighttime sleep tussles, the colored liqueurs of the true, the possible, fantasy, and the mythic beliefs become intermixed. Eyelets of the commonsensical and the imaginative are incorporated, and a new realism emerges out of our distilled perception of the veridical derived from the phenomenal realm of sensory reality and the philosophic world of ideals contained in the noumenal realm. The resultant psychobiologic vision immerses us in bouts of intoxicating inspiration and artistic stimulation and leaves us rickety boned and weakened after enduring a dreaded hangover of perpetual doubt laced with vagueness and insecurity.

All writers are demonic dreamers. Writing is an act of sharing experiences and offering of an individualistic perspective of our private attitudes pertaining to whatever topics of thought intrigues the author. Writing is a twitchy art, which attempts to employ linguist building blocks handed-down from past generations. Writers_ word choices form a structure of conjoined sentences when overlaid with the lingua of modern culture. Writers attempt to emulate in concrete form the synesthesia of our personal pottage steeped in our most vivid feelings. Writing a personal essay calls for us to sort out a jungle of lucid observations and express in a tangible technique our unique interpretation of coherent observations interlaced with that effusive cascade of yearning, the universal spice of unfilled desire, which turmoil of existential angst swamps us.

Life is truly lived only when we discover other faiths, festivals, languages and cultures.

You made a poet fall in love with the world.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and dived deeply into her ocean of love and that's how I saved my soul!

Either I love someone completely, totally and madly or not at all!

She texted me 'I love you.'I texted back 'I love you too.'She then texted me 'I love you more.'And I smiled reading her message and texted in reply 'No, I love you more.'Then she texted me 'I love you infinity power infinity power infinity into infinity.'I had no words to reply and smiled looking at her text!

At times all you need is a bottle of fine old wine, a mellifluous piece of music playing in the background and a good book to spend the entire night in a magical bliss!

You are lovelier than all the roses in the world.

Sylvia Plath and I met a long time ago. A really long time ago. Was it a summer day? No! It was a wintry November morning!

One day someone will fall in love with you despite all your flaws! Then magic will happen in your life!

She loved me deeply, madly and passionately. She knew no other way!

Your gracefulness and feminine charms always so tender, you make my heart smile and wonder!

And then it dawned on me that the greatest love stories in the world never have happy endings.

I know not what it is about you that makes me go crazy but I do know that the fragrance of your skin is more sublime than that of all the perfumes of this world!

I know not what it is about you that makes me go crazy but I do know that the radiance in your eyes is more dazzling than that in all the diamonds of this world!

She cured me of my sadness.

I know not what it is about you that makes me go crazy but I do know that the radiance in your eyes is more dazzling than that in all the diamonds of this world!And that the inimitable fragrance of your skin is more sublime than that of all the perfumes of this world!