Do Not Read This One.

I’m writing this one straight into the WordPress editor. I’m practicing a little advice that I preached in one of my comments today. So, here goes, twenty minutes, straight into the WordPress editor. No way to make it pretty then, huh?

Oh, it’s going to be tough. I can feel that. Well, here comes a horrible post.

“We’ll dance together till the end of time,

And the world will fall, submitting its authority.

Oh, the things we do to fit in.”

There are three updates, or points, which I’d like to make you aware of.

First, from now onwards, Saturdays will be Gratitude Saturday. I whine a lot, it’s only fair I give gratitude to all that I have. Maybe I’ll end up less pessimistic that way. Who knows?

Why Saturday?

If you force my hand, and I’d have to choose a favourite day, it’d have to be Saturday. No competition there. If I look for reason why that is so, I don’t know, maybe I can come up with few. The fact that it’ll be Sunday next day would be the first. Sunday’s are good but they are masked by the horror of upcoming Monday. On that note, I hate Mondays, by the way.

Second would be the fact that, on Saturdays, I end up having going on a binge Heavy Metal album listening. I listened to Metallica’s first three albums in one go today. Kill ‘em All, Ride the Lightning and Master of Puppets. I’m on my seventh album, right now, as I am writing this.

In addition to the aforementioned, the list goes like this, Goatwhore’s Carving Out The Eyes of God, Amon Amarth’s Twilight of The Thunder God, Slayer’s Season in Abyss and well, as always, Slipknot’s Iowa. Megadeth’s Rust in Peace is next, in case that information is relevant.

Second, in this week’s Sometimes Stellar Six Word Story Challenge, I finished second for my entry, “On tiny graves, gravedigger often cried.”

Third, I recently became the Top Writer in Art category on Medium and I’ve been selected as a writer for five publications there.

For the unknowing, it’s a community of writers and readers just like WordPress. And unlike WordPress, it’s a community dominated by readers rather than writers. If you ask me, I’ll say that is its biggest advantage. If it was upto me, I’d Frankenstein something between WordPress, Medium and Path. Oh, and maybe Instagram.

Lately, I’ve been active on Medium a lot. And maybe, I’d like to finish this post on that note. Give Medium a go, believe me, it has a beautiful interface and if you love reading, you cannot go wrong there. If you do decide to join Medium, give my profile a read. It’s @nitesh.mishra3.

That’s all. Nice. It didn’t come out half bad, huh?

P.S.

Images are prepared using Canva, by the way, which means I have all the rights to them.  Don’t tell me you’re still not using it. Learning Canva is a necessity in this blogging age, believe me. 

P.P.S.

Have you checked out my profile on Instagram? It isn’t that bad, at least I don’t think so.

Why I Write The Diary Of A Madman

It’s all a game of words. Rawest and stripped down version of my life. Welcome to the diary of a madman. By now, the diary is filled with roughly hundred little notes, notes full of my conflicts. My thought process captured in it’s stripped form.

Let’s recall one of the greatest philosophical quotes, “Sometimes, everything in your life works exactly the way you want it to, on certain other occasions, everything goes against you, but you’ve got to hang in there.”

Inktober – Day 27-28

Commitments. Sounds simple, right? 

For example, when I thought of writing this post, I simply made a little mental note that I’m only going to upload the inktober image (Yeah! I’m sketching again). But you know, it’s me, the ostentatious narcissist. I simply can’t stop showing off. So instead of two sketches, you will end up getting another attempt at horrible writing.

The last inktober sketch that I did was the day seventeen of the challenge. Today is day twenty-eight. Looking one month back, I was so excited about inktober. I was like a little boy who got his first bike and then shit happened. As it always does.

Initally, two weeks were brilliant. I developed a rhythm, a style. In one post, I ended up writing a poem, a little prose, a sketch, all of them linked in a nice coherent way. And look at me now.

I’m trying to run away from so many things. My excuse? I can’t do so many things in one go. I need to slow down. Fuck.

Alright. I can feel it. This is going to become another rant of cynical cry baby who just can’t stay happy.

Alright, professionally I might not be happy and that’s a big might. I realised something today, with my personal life, I’m content. Isn’t that enough? I feel unbelievably happy when I don’t think of my ambitious professional commitments. When I focus on the personal aspect of my life, I only feel bliss. And I’m not exaggerating. I know the meaning of the word, “Bliss.”

Fuck, I digressed again. And I say I’m focused. Idiot.

Commitments. So, Inktober. One pen and ink sketch. The entire month of October. Thirty-one sketches seem quite simple. I’ve drawn more in one day for god sake.

What I forgot to keep in mind was one little fact. I’m an impulsive artist (Hello, more than thirty-one sketches in one day). All was going good. We passed the half way mark and I got the dreaded artist’s block. Yes, it is a thing. Not only writers get writer’s block. I can write thousand introspective words about that alone but let’s skip the shenanigans.

One of the well tested way to overcome your artist’s block is to try another medium. God, I don’t know why I waited almost two weeks to do that. So, I’ve worked a lot with archival ink but I always shyed away from the simplest tool. A ball pen. Yup.

The pen we all doddle with. I used artist quality pen but I have always ignored a ball pen. Can you fucking believe it?

So, ball pen. And let me tell you this, drawing portraits with a ball pen isn’t as simple as it sounds. I tried one and the end result was rather horrible. But that worked perfect to the theme of “Climb.” After all it was a little climb with the ball pen (I use prompts in rather peculiar way). One sketch in and we were off to the prompt “Fall.” 

OK, let me find a clever way to use it. Second sketch, a ball pen and finally we have a sketch that can be labelled as the one that saved me of my fall from grace.

Shit. I’m too pretentious. OK. Forget about my horrible attempt to be clever and just enjoy the sketch. I did.

** Via Daily Prompt: Prefer

Inktober Day 17

Browse through the work of Doodle Squat at doodlesquat.com
You will not be disappointed. I definitely find his work to be quite inspirational for me.

doodlesquat

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Inktober 2017 – Day Thirteen to Fifteen Entry – Gratitude

After three days of gloom, here we are. Three days of too much introspection, three agonizing day of suffering in misery of my own making. I could write about it again but I’ve been doing that for three days.

Eternal Sadness Cloaked with Brief Smiles

My Words Betrayed Me Today

A Man’s Journey Through His Own Hell

Today once again I’m going to something unexpected. This pessimist is going to show his gratitude to all the optimists that he knows. My dearest friends, you all know who you are. I always go out of my ways to be there for you because you do that for me. All of you stayed with me in a period which only lasted for three days. But these three days have taught me a lot.

Inktober 2017 – Day Eleven Entry – Emptiness of Silence

Today I was re-reading some of my earlier writings. For example, the one I am about to share with you was written in November 2016. And before you end finding similarity between this and, “A Love Story?” Let me save you some trouble. There are lot of similarities. After all, first novels are always auto-biographical. I wanted to write my own story and I did started with this short story (Though there are heavily fictionalized scenes). Somewhere in-between writing this, I gave up on it and simply stopped writing prose altogether.

In that particular period, I only focused on poetry. Now, when I stared, “A Love Story?” it was a random experiment and I ended up using this as a framework for certain scenes. So bear with me if you think I am a horrible writer. Other than that, enjoy.

**

Emptiness of Silence

Part One

It’s an old saying, “It’s the darkest before dawn.” Well I’m still waiting for that first ray of sunshine. It’s my story and I’ll tell it exactly the way I want to. If you’re asking why so gloomy, well it’s because my little adventure on this little shitsville has been anything but a gloomy Sunday.

Inktober 2017 – Day Ten Entry – Dirty Yellow Light

Through the grilled window, the hues of red and dirty yellow light from the street lamp is flooding my room as I am writing this. The entire room, except for those streaks of light, is emerged in darkness and the light from the screen of my smartphone is illuminating my otherwise grim face. I could talk a lot about tame and as I am typing it I have no idea where I’ll end up or what I’ll end up with.

That is quite a common occurrence with my rants. I start with one thought and somewhere in-between, I drift towards something entirely else. My Silent friend, you and I have this disadvantage, that we know each other through words.

Inktober 2017 – Day Nine Entry – What To Write

Check out the Inktober 2017 gallery here: Inktober 2017 Entries

Last night, I was chatting with one of my dear friend (I guess I do chat a lot) and the conversation mainly focused on doubting your words. Whether or not they have any originality. A little conversation and here we are. Another entry into the Diary of a Madman.

There is an old saying, there is a difference between practicing what you preach and preaching only after you have preached. I talk a lot about writing ugly. Now, what I’ve always meant by that is rather simple. Do not censor your words, do not limit them with rules and regulations. Do not worry of a particular word reads good or not. That word exists for a reason.

Inktober 2017 – Day Eight Entry – A Life Marred

What should I ramble today? As of late, I think I am running out of things to say. Does the second part seems like a question you also ponder a lot, my dear readers? Well, I do that every day and that is when I always requote a quote, “There are no original ideas. Just different narrators telling the same story.”

And No, there isn’t anything wrong with that. I can write ten different post explaining the very same idea. Ten views on same principle. But what I want to discuss today is more urgent. I have decided to collect all my poetry into one little collection and publish it. Yup, a narcissistic piece of shit is going to publish the most complicated form of creative writing.

Inktober 2017 – Day Seven Entry – Untitled #3

I was traveling back to home and I was in public bus. The person sitting next to me was speaking in Kashmiri. I knew it was Kashmiri because I’ve known quite a few kashmirians, I know enough to know the dialect. Everyone had that judging look, you know, as if he was planning the next terrorist attack, as if the very bus he was sitting on was about to be blown up in few minutes. I mean it’s comical, behind all the rage, behind the Islamophobia, it’s comical. These idiots who don’t even know how to earn more than 200 rupees in one day judge someone who for all intent and purposes could be a millionaire.

This inherent habit or need to judge, to assume simply based on someone’s voice raises unbelievable questions. It definitely does that in my mind. I once wrote it in a post (I have no idea which one), “Are personalities inherent or are they malleable, influenced by everything, from books to parents to friends to films to music to art.”