no one understand I am in problem and cant cope out
End Userilliterate people here perhaps think that European people for chatting on the internet are roaming spirits who are trapped in the local internet and phone exchange...and when there is no internet means that the ghosts break away from the entrapment, and that they are slave spirits of dead people to chat and mingle with online, and that the photos and personal matter we upload of ourselves on internet contain a part of our soul, negative or positive and that those can be tamed and used as slave post our death.....in that way internet might be actually a huge occult net, and roaming about in ether...roaming, flying spirits, summoned at call, and perhaps its a sophisticated seeming gadget harnessed spirit enchanted occult, harnessed to common people on a fee..as no one knows where and how internet servers function and where they are located..in that way you are also a spirit, and a slave to the internet ministry and are fed by feed from living soul end user operators like me
Core BoreMy friend from Bombay college insisted me an idea that; artists in art industry are treated as labour
It induced a thought trail in my mind:-
A young man mad in love of a young girl...The young girl is taken away from him, or maybe she was a dead girl..and the artist or labourer young man keeps on getting mad in her love and seeking her under ground...he keeps on digging and digging in his sole love..he never can realise that the girl is gone forever, that she is dead..
Some or the other kids and appreciators of his work come near the hole he has dug, they sing a loo and motivate him, speak to him, caress him, but all just temporary....people come and go, digger keeps on digging...he is chasing his hope..almost forver...the deeper he digs the closer to burning memories and the burn of cheating he finds....but someday he will make an earth diagonal tunnel or he will give up...
If he gives up, he is pulled out with a rope and he is entitled back his earth life again...
If he makes the wo
Lottery PrizeIts was a rather cold winter day all day today..and now its a very cold night, a little late past dinner time. I dosed off to sleep in the evening, in-locking the door to this room behind me. It was a rather unproductive day, I did not exercise properly today, wasted all the time and did not so glorious things.
I just woke up, and before waking up I was watching a dream, that I write down now.
I had won some kind of monetary reward in some kind of rural lottery, I came to knew of it in a posted printed letter postage or shop outlet rather. It was ages ago, maybe in some past age of the 1980s, time when I lived as a child, but I was an adult other man in the dream, And I had to go to rurally built sub-urban Bangalore to collect my monetary reward. It was winter days, and my place, and also Bangalore were supposed to be cold.
I took a train to near Bangalore in the winter...it was dark and the train took me through mountains and mountainous forests, valleys, natural life and winter beaut
Other worldFantasy artists are very learned and wise people
Fantasy is not a lie, but an alternate reality
Fantasy is a well structured imagination utilising the same elements, just beaded differently..in perfection its as logical as the real life reference or scenario..fantasy is an other dimensional or parallel universe imagination..its a glimpse of other possibility..its just like a detective reconstruction and can have many alternate variables..limit is only the time and the chance of human mind..
There are false or poor fantasy also, psycho or deliberate fantasy, that dont use real life logics judiciously, they say "our fantasy is as real or fake as your fantasy, if you dont understand ours, we dont understand yours, and thus why on the first place you infected us with fantasy market"..in truth they are illiterate and fake dreamers, they are not dreamers at all, rather money designers or deliberate liars. Fake fantasy utilises the name of fantasy for illogical or mad perspectives..psycho per
Life IsLife is very weird
To be able to understand or complement every good thing in life is a rare fate..
Mind PhysiqueMind doesnt develop aloof or healthy than the physique or physical experience.
This insists that no mental transmission is solely aloof from physical expression.
And that insists that telepathy doesnt exist without physical expression, at all.
That means that telepathy if existent is yet another mode of expressive communication, it takes some other form of physical expression also. Common variations of telepathy are visual and sonic arts, mental-perceptible arts..sex is also a language and thus a form of telapathy, visual or sonic expression and masturbating to that is also a form of telepathy, no wonder if might have some hardly recordable feedback also from the presenter. Telepathy is all the ways of non direct expressions in nature, and any expression definitely needs physical processing and action is some or other form. Action is expression, action is telepathy also, action can be of many forms, that means any action definitely has a feedback and return in nature. Just do your acti
Right WrongA thousand wrongs and a million rights of this world..
who cares, but we are stuck into this world, conditions effect us, and life is painfull to live or to cease living..untill we are free from the evitability of life..post death is perhaps devoid of perception..so it doent matter we live or die, life is perception still not everyone or no one can enjoy it to the fullest..the natural event of life is a constant friction to the laws of nature, the friction of survival causes pains every moment we live..so death is non happening, but life is pain...being whatever nothing is exceptionally valuable over the another, unless one exceptionally wants to see what being alive means..and every matter is sometime regenerated as part of a living matter, so nature allows its chance to every matter to feel alive...but there is no exceptional advantage of being alive, in the two fold aspect in the universe or the difference between all living and no living matter...life is just a happening of a rare
Give Justiceplease pull me out of this hell
my family, neighbours and this place and their way of being is twisted psycho..give me and that innocent European girl JUSTICE!!!!
BEHOLD THE LIGHT LETTER AND ART PIECE
"Behold the Light" Letter and Art Piece
© Merton Parrish, All rights reserved
BEHOLD THE LIGHT
Some special words from Merton to uplift my fellow artists, friends and visitors
who might be suffering with depression or anxiety
Dear brother/sister artists, friends and visitors,
I am so sorry you are having trouble. I dealt with anxiety and depression a lot, especially when I was younger. The thing I found that helped me the most was to try to make my life fit me, in every way I could. It can take a while, but through effort, prayer in ones own way, asking the Universe to show one what things to do/change, a life that fits one can be crafted. Many times (depending on our efforts, the specificity of our intention, and the time spent getting clear and praying/affirming/manifesting), that new life can manifest very quickly.
There is an us that is enjoyi
You shouldn't have Hurt MeYesterday, I remembered you weren't here anymore…I had forgotten that you left, that you had walked out the door and never returned…It was as if all those tears that I shed had never happened. As if all the pain in my chest and the hole in my soul where suddenly hidden from my view…but don't worry, it wasn't for much time. As I looked at my side I saw that empty space…the one and only that you left…my heart burned into ashes and a new wall was risen, rage was born and revenge was demanded. You had burned my heart, you had broken me down. Now you would pay for the pain of the drowned. Drowned in blood like the children of the flesh, your skin will crawl at the sight of my face, your blood will boil and I'll only say. "Revenge is a bitch, this was never the way."
The Mind of a KillerWho can understand the mind of a killer? They act on their impulses or desires, they want to satisfy a need that burns deep within. An eternal itch that lasts weeks, months and even years…Their major desire of course is what they covet, what they see everyday but unlike others, they act on those impulses, in a more violent and brutal manner than others. Those in a "sane state of mind" as they say, keep those desires and impulses to themselves, locking those thoughts in their back of their minds…classifying them as "foolish thoughts that will pass." but it keeps gnawing at them silently. Those who comply, cannot stop, because they enjoy it…those are called serial killers but in the end…who are we kidding? We are all serial killers on the inside…Haven't you ever though about killing someone ? Even if just a second…you have already done it in your heart have you not? We are all guilty of murder…we are all bloody murderers…We all d
The last letterSweetheart,
How does time flew by, as for forty-nine years, we were blissfully married. And amid all the good things you can have in this world, the other people whom you deserve more, you chose me instead. A young naive man who can’t give you any kids and grandchildren. A man who only can see the beauty that dwells within your gracefully aged wrinkles. A man who can understand you more than anyone else. A man who can give you your happiness. A man who can love you today, every day, and forevermore. I promised you my life, my support and encouragement, I promised that it will always be you and me.
But despite over these past golden years, I realized how fragile one’s life is. With a false alarm, you were so sure that you would be leaving sooner than I am. But guess what, I finally beat you to it, haha. Even though, I would still prefer if we could do this thing together. Y’know, like that one cheesy film we both cried our eyes out which we both never admit it w
a letter to my friendsDear Friends,
By this time i think most of you have figured out i am depressed... so i dont need to say it. i love you all, and thank you for your concerns but i feel like as much as you try to help me you can only do so much.
Nothing i say, or write, or draw, or do can explain my depression, or tell you why i contemplate death every night, so i wont say anything.
before you jump to conclusions, no, im not killing myself. i dont have the guts for it.
but hopefully this explains why i havent been talking to you much... and if i have its usually short before i leave and simply not talk for a while.
its just hard to deal with... the constant nagging inside your head for you to take a few more sleeping pills than usual, or for you to pick up the knife that lies on your windowsill and see how far you can dig it into your skin until you sever a vein and bleed out.. the little voice in your head telling you how worthless you are and how nobody actually cares, they say they do but they just wa
everyone you meet is a personyou had a soulmate
together for fourteen years, you saw his gaze go glassy on screen
you heard his voice crack
because he remembers what you shared,
who you were or could have been
and he goes quiet when he says you would've loved all of this
the flowers spreading outwards so that
soon, they will walk to work amongst petals scattered around
find warmth and solidarity in the coffee cup they hold in their hand
you should have been alive to see it