After a long wait, I got a chance to go on a trip. And I did go. I would say this was a trip to the other world. Far away from humanity. A trip to Fort William was what the doctor had prescribed after my busy college schedule. This was my first trip to the Scottish Highlands. I was rewarded by a wealth of memories and feelings which I would treasure forever. BEAUTIFUL. i can say no more, cant describe the beauty, cant say anything more because that would spoil it.
On my way, I was penning my thoughts, giving words to what I felt. It worked out well then. But knew for sure that I wont able to recall any of them. I just have this feeling of numbness created b the beauty, the majesty that took my breath away.
"It started out as a feeling
Which then grew into a hope
Which then turned into a quiet thought
Which then turned into a quiet word
Now we're back to the beginning
It's just a feeling and no one knows yet
But just because they can't feel it too
Doesn't mean that you have to forget
Let your memories grow stronger and stronger'
Til they're before your eyes
You'll come back when its over.... no need to say goodbye"
My journey to a wonder land was ushered in by this song. I remember losing myself in the clouds that came down to earth. I was in the middle of .... heaven or atleast the path that leads to it.
See, I told you dear reader, it would not make any sense if I start talking "mind". It is a language understood by very few. Coherence would be the last thing you would find.Thats why this blog is named harmonious dischord.
People say that when you die , you either go to heaven or hell or as Dante pictures it, limbo. If there is a heaven the path t it would be like the road I have travelled. I ve never seen a place so unpolluted by human proximity. I almost felt like going to the edge of the world. As the Caledonian sleeper chugged along my heart was filled with a throbbing pleasure.
I have never tasted the intoxication provided by liquor or opium. But I know now the joys that they give. NOW I know what keats felt. Yeah it is the same:
MY heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,
Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains.
If he could feel this listening to the song of a nightingale, a commoner has got every right to feel like I did during my journey. I know the bounds of exhilarated joy that would have made th poet pen those beautiful words. Alas! I am no wizard of words to open my heart and pour out what it feels like the poet did. Even if try , it would be a sad imitation. So I am settling for this blog. Here I can hide my words and ask for comments from a lost reader who from time time stumble upon my blogs as a result of an internet search. Let that be it.
On my way, I was penning my thoughts, giving words to what I felt. It worked out well then. But knew for sure that I wont able to recall any of them. I just have this feeling of numbness created b the beauty, the majesty that took my breath away.
"It started out as a feeling
Which then grew into a hope
Which then turned into a quiet thought
Which then turned into a quiet word
Now we're back to the beginning
It's just a feeling and no one knows yet
But just because they can't feel it too
Doesn't mean that you have to forget
Let your memories grow stronger and stronger'
Til they're before your eyes
You'll come back when its over.... no need to say goodbye"
My journey to a wonder land was ushered in by this song. I remember losing myself in the clouds that came down to earth. I was in the middle of .... heaven or atleast the path that leads to it.
See, I told you dear reader, it would not make any sense if I start talking "mind". It is a language understood by very few. Coherence would be the last thing you would find.Thats why this blog is named harmonious dischord.
People say that when you die , you either go to heaven or hell or as Dante pictures it, limbo. If there is a heaven the path t it would be like the road I have travelled. I ve never seen a place so unpolluted by human proximity. I almost felt like going to the edge of the world. As the Caledonian sleeper chugged along my heart was filled with a throbbing pleasure.
I have never tasted the intoxication provided by liquor or opium. But I know now the joys that they give. NOW I know what keats felt. Yeah it is the same:
MY heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,
Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains.
If he could feel this listening to the song of a nightingale, a commoner has got every right to feel like I did during my journey. I know the bounds of exhilarated joy that would have made th poet pen those beautiful words. Alas! I am no wizard of words to open my heart and pour out what it feels like the poet did. Even if try , it would be a sad imitation. So I am settling for this blog. Here I can hide my words and ask for comments from a lost reader who from time time stumble upon my blogs as a result of an internet search. Let that be it.
