Enter The House Of Stories


I live in a house of stories. In a phantasm. Here everything is made up of words. Said and unsaid. Written and unwritten. Heard and unheard. Familiar and unfamiliar. Words that are still in the nuclei and others which are decaying and dying. Dead words and their ghosts. Orgasmic words exploding at touch of a thought. All encompassing all including words. Tainted words. winged words- magical, ethereal.  Then there are the creative trouble makers. Words that will bewitch you, cast a spell and posses you. They will become your fingers and write the stories for you. You will have no control, no power. Drugged by them your stories will rise from the belly of your mind and float out of the house while you watch in helpless trance. They will be your masterpieces. Your finest creations.

Cast a net  catch a few starry words, look for those glowing words hidden in the crevices, sniff the pain and  joy, vulnerability and  passion, death and rebirth if you have a nose for it. Allow your senses to indulge. Let the words have their way with you. Let them tickle you like a soft feather, undress you slowly down  to the wire syllable by syllable, consonant by consonant. Let them undo you one vowel at a time.Lend yourself to them. Surprise your tongue as they gently push past your teeth , rejoice in the deeper play they create inside you. Watch their sweet swell. Taste the salt on their skin. Dance to their symphony of lust. Let them feed you a story or two in bite size morsels. Be part of their stories. Always searching, always needing, always wanting. There is  a beauty in staying incomplete. Hungry.

Do not be afraid. Open yourself to the house of stories and it will sing you its  siren songs, it will string together and weave fascinating tales.  It won’t lie, It can’t. It isn’t capable of deceit.

No emotion is superfluous here, everything is an all engulfing whirlpool. Everything is larger than life. Raw, naked, stripped off of all inhibitions, everything is free of boundaries reality imposes.  The boundary between the animate and inanimate is in itself animate. Walk that line.

While you do all this always have an escape route. Don’t let the words hold you captive in the house of stories. Slip away the moment you feel the cage closing in. Escape. Heaven is real but so is hell. Sometimes the word wall will crumble like cookies and the winds will scatter them. Do not despair. Other words will take their place and those flung far and wide will take roots there and lay the foundation for some other house of stories. There is always a birth in death. Nothing actually dies.

There is also a dark world lurking in here.  A house within a house where you can cut yourself on words, bleed. Weapons- sharp, loaded. Silent cold words with sharp jagged edges. Gleaming daggers. They can ravage your heart, pierce through it, nibble on it or tear it like a carnivore, throw you off-balance and hurl you down a narrow, gaping hole. They can strip you naked and whiplash you till your skin burns crimson, black and blue but as I said do not be afraid. Let them hammer on your pain points, slump you like a deflated balloon but remember it is all a part of love-making, of self-awareness, of  becoming aware.  Be aware, let them scribble on your heart, accept, relax, surrender to them as they surrender to you. Let the house of stories take you in its warm, moist fold as you take it in yours. Stay joyously drunk on them. Enjoy the fluidity. Ride through it, plunge, rise, drown and rise again. Meet those unmet passions, unbound desires, celebrations and raptures, slaughtered dreams and rejections, the end of the rope and secret shame, discover the road map of scars, heal them , touch them with love as they throb inside your being. Let them bring you to your knees as they take you on a roller coaster ride called life. Watch the swing and swirl of words as they tangle with human emotions.

Be a relentless seeker. Seek the stories hidden in the nooks and corners of this house. Reach out to them. Reach for the void at the end, look for spaces between for it is there you will find yourself. Listen to the echos of your heart. Curl up and retreat in those empty spaces. Don’t be in a hurry to fill them for they add meaning to all that is around you. The spaces between tears and laughter, silence and words, between the pieces of yin and yang that lie in your path. Nestle in the light that seeps through the spaces of darkness and dark that quietly descends between the light. Be there in the spaces between your breaths, give yourself to the space between the rising and the setting sun, slip through the spaces between your fingers, sit quietly between your illusions and delusions.

Find stories hidden in the spaces between awake and sleep, between birth and death,  in gaps where the warmth meets the chill, where yearning meets the indifference, Don’t occupy it , just be there. Dig deep into yourself. Feel the intimacy of being with oneself in these miracle moments.

This house is ever reinventing itself. You can’t live here as a whole. You are split into a million nano particles, each as complete as the other.

You are the house. The house is you. It is a maze. It is an extension of you. Add your stories to it. Write. Create. Co create. Love its solitude and yours within it. Be in love for that is what writing is all about. Become your writing and merge into the house of stories so there is no physical self, just words. Let it be an excavation site where every moment is a mystery revealed. Where in every crack lies a spring waiting to launch forth just like your heart. Don’t box yourself in for the true blossoming can occur only when you have set yourself free of everything that restrains, restricts. Explore, take risks, question, allow yourself.

I live here, in my enchantment. 

Would you like to come in? 

Strength


“Isn’t strength the ability to renounce every lie in your heart?”

“Wouldn’t you agree that having the courage and bravery to be honest with yourself is another form of strength?”

~Tamaki Suoh  (Ouran HighSchool Host Club)

Tamaki is an anime character from   shoujo manga series Ouran High School Host Club created by  Bisco Hatori.

I found Tamaki during a Google Image Search for some anime characters I wanted to download and play with on Adobe Photoshop CS5.

I completely believe in what he says here. I have followed it and taught it to my boys too. If you are not honest to yourself , you can never be honest to others. Most of us lie to ourselves more than we lie to others. It is deeply ingrained and comes easy. We live a life of deception and denial. All our life we pretend to be someone else, avoiding dealing with issues related to self. It locks us in a cycle of self sabotage, blocking our ability to move forward. It takes strength and courage to look within, to face oneself, to break the cycle.

Deep within us there is a desire to do the right thing, be a good person but of course we don’t live up to it. We lose our bearings and feel rotten but we won’t let go of deceit, defending it just to prove ourselves right. Bearing the burden of the duplicities, false pride, and self-importance that all of us have in various measures most of us are unable to renounce the lies within.

I try never to do anything which would make me feel uncomfortable when I look into my own eyes. I expect the same from those who are close to me. That is something I teach my children too.

Take a mirror test to begin with. It is very uncomfortable and here comes the need for strength. Look into your eyes. Reflect upon your thoughts, how you deal with others, what do you say. Notice if you want to shift your gaze or avert your eyes. You will know when you aren’t right, that it is a lie you are living. Now comes the time to convert that strength into courage. Courage to accept and rectify. To be honest to oneself and others. I do it and I think that if your inner justifies your action then it is right no matter what society says.

Accepting oneself leads to self-confidence  and greater mental strength which is required to  take control over one’s life. To have a warrior mindset one needs to master thoughts, feelings and emotions. One needs to recognize them honestly and deal with them as they should be rightfully. Only when the mind is free of burdens of managing various lies it can help build strength of character.

We can only discover our true self-worth by being honest to ourselves.

Confession is another way to be honest with oneself. I feel that however difficult it may seem, confessing  always improves a relationship and a person as a whole. Doing a wrong and then covering it up with layers of denial and lies makes everything collapse. Ultimately the truth finds its way out and that pain is greater than the pain of the first wrong done. Most of the time it is too late to mend the bond when the trust is lost and one may have to live with the guilt for the rest of the life. It is always easier to lie than to confess. Confession of truth hurts but the realization that the person is lying hurts more. The pain is much deeper even if the lie was told to save the hurt.

I prefer not to indulge in anything my conscience won’t allow.

This is my feeling. I feel relationships survive on the strength of honesty and to be honest to each other one needs to be honest to self.

If you are convinced about something , if you feel no guilt, no weakness or fear, if you can justify honestly your action to yourself  Then  you are strong. That is the true strength.

So, can you handle that moment of truth? It may most probably will not be to your liking.  Do you have strength to break down, to feel pain, sadness, rejection?  To feel human ?  Do you have the courage to face the defeat and the strength to take it as a challenge to conquer it?

It takes more strength to be true to yourself than to put up a wall.  Do you have that strength?

Self-protection armor, most of the time unconsciously erected at a young age, causes most of our adult suffering. Let go of self-armoring. Let down those walls.

Being vulnerable is not a weakness, it  takes more strength and courage than overcoming most of the obstacles that you will ever encounter in a life time.

Changing old patterns takes an effort and that effort needs immense strength to carry forward but that is the road to self-empowerment and it is certainly worth it.

Give it shot.

Renounce every lie in the heart.  Be aware. Be strong

This post is written for GBE2  WEEK #58 (6-24-12 to 6-30-12): Strength

Dreamscape, Imagination, Mindgames And The World Within


Everybody has a secret world inside of them. 

All of the people of the world, I mean everybody. No matter how dull and boring they are on the outside, inside them they’ve all got unimaginable  magnificent wonderful   stupid   amazing  worlds.

Not just one world.

 Hundreds of them.

 Thousands maybe.

Quote copyright-Neil Gaiman

Dreams make me endure the reality. Imagination lets me stay sane. The world inside my mind is where I retreat at times when the world becomes too much to bear. That is the world I live in most of  the time.  A private dreamscape, a virtual reality world where time has no meaning. Where the five senses work magically unrestrained. It is a world where dreams get realized, even the wildest of them, where passion are fed, love blossoms, fears take shapes and walk around. Where there are deep crevices full of secrets, dark alleys where thoughts stumble upon each other, strange voice glide past each other, there are ditches that reek of pain. A world where ghosts from the yesteryear wander freely rising from the graveyard of memories buried over the time.  It is a world where I am invented and reinvented driven by uncontrolled fantasy, a world where stories are born.

 A world with constellations of wants and needs, hopes and dreams, laments and longings,  a surreal universe of uninhabited stars yearning for life. No emotion is superfluous there, everything is an all engulfing whirlpool. Everything is larger than life. Raw, naked, stripped off all inhibitions,  everything free of boundaries reality imposes. I live here, in my enchantment. protected by own fairy tale, by love. Here time is different, unmeasured. It’s sunsets and sunrises painted in celestial colors. It is a world where I can smell, touch , hear, see everything that can not be smelled, heard,seen or touched in real life. I can give each object, each person, each place any dimension, any form, any kind of existence that I desire. The boundary between the animate and inanimate is in itself animate ( says KS) and it holds true here. Here I am the master weaver, craftsman, a dreamer, a storyteller, a lover with a raw sort of vulnerability, a woman I try hard to be in reality and manage only a fraction of it and sometimes I am just me, a form, unchained by sexuality. A shape shifter.

Here love is an exploding cigar we willingly smoke. Bodies are chiseled and carved in shape of desire. They feed on each other passionately, ravenously, sensually in the midst of all the silent noise that surrounds them, unaffected.Here love is not flowery, poetic, measured and hesitant. It is fierce, pulsating, graphic, full of fluidity and madness. Nothing comes close to the love we make inside our head. Ethereal, adventurous and wildly stimulating all at the same time.

The mind also has a dark world lurking to suck you in. It is devious. It can rage passionate fires and it can also drown you in the deepest of oceans full of pain. Shred you into tiny pieces, cut your veins and bleed you to a slow death. It can ravage your heart, nibble on it or tear it like a carnivore, it can throw you off-balance and hurl you down a narrow, gaping hole. It can strip you naked and whiplash you till your skin burns crimson, black and blue. The wounds it gives don’t heal, they come alive and spit lava. It cuts you down to your size more effectively than reality does.

Then there are dreams, you won’t understand if you aren’t a dreamer, lucid dreams filled with pieces of super reality which ooze out as revelations, a world within a world. A gobbling kaleidoscopic. It is amazing how we are tricked into believing reality of these world within by our mind. It is the creator. I think my mind has highly optimized memory channels which store data for later review. Vivid, lucid dreams where one is in control of that which in fact is just imagination, is something not everyone possess.

It is here that  the reality’s image is mirrored in absurdity & strange connections, I try to link them till I the find the pattern I seek. The process is continuous.

There are callings, revelations, symbols, voices and spirits. leading to inner deeper layers of this world which is a merger of dreamscape and imagination. One lives and dies and lives again here. Time travel becomes a reality. past, present and future merge. Mind becomes a canvas where every micro second the patterns change. The fine line between imagination and dreams becomes even finer with people like me.

And if you thought that is the end of it, you are wrong.

There are those demonic depths of mind where world as sensitive as a lunatic’s mind form and dissolve. Where revenge is plotted, throats are slit, where occult resides in its most primal form. Sometimes one is sucked by it at others it remains quietly breathing under the more calmer serene layer. The paradoxical existence of both and our ability to create a balance is what life is about, in real world or in the mindscape.

These are not the only world within, every moment new worlds are conceived in the mind womb ready to launch forth at any given time and take control. Everything emerges from three base emotions – Love, Hate and Fear.

Everything one runs from is in the head lurking in one of the worlds inside.

If I could just stand one night alone in my mind…. The thought itself is orgasmic.