Chapter 1: On a lazy Sunday Afternoon
OK let's figure out what this piece should be about. I have this flow of words which keep coming without any specific direction or motive. Just jotting down what I feel and keeping on yapping about things.
I wonder if that's considered to be a story, probably not. This is more of a carefree but mildly conscious form of journaling. The problem is this website looks like all about story books and Chapters and blah blah blah.
I am definitely not the first one here to try this sort of thing, definitely won't be the last to do so. And this content might eventually get pushed down. Who want's to read about stuff that doesn't have much purpose. Writing when inspired by muses gets it's own purpose. It's a pity I lost that repository of my writings and observations and note. I sincerely feel strong emotions leads to fantastic descriptions detailed analogies and motivated zeal to put forward the word on the page.
Now as I keep writing this I wonder, I will have to give a proper title to this chapter, a proper name to this book even a cover page for someone to find it pretty and interesting enough to read through. Or I can just write whatever I feel like writing and then post it pretty much like this for some soul to discover themselves reading through the mind of a person who doesn't exactly know why he is on this site but definitely is enjoying typing out these words.
There is too much I in the above paragraphs, let's talk about something else. Let me describe the view from my window. From where I sit I see the clear blue sky turning slowly to white as it reaches out to the horizon. My eyeline is filled with trees. Trees with multitudes of green just looking beautiful in the golden afternoon sunshine. There is a wind rusting the leaves a little. A pink kite is tuck on the tree in front of me. It keeps tugging on the branch when the wind tries to lift it off but to no avail. there is distant blaring of horns and traffic. Up in the blue sky I see birds swooping about in big circles. Sitting here with the whirring of the fan in the background and the wind slowly drifting in from the window, it feels peaceful. Looking at the trees and describing them here. The greens of different shades, closing my eyes and straining my ears to listen to the insects buzzing, the sounds of my mother cooking up things in the kitchen, it feels normal, it feels like being home.
So ok, I have an idea, let this be the continuation of an old endeavor I once started. Let this be my side of that original idea where I would share what I see from my corner of the sphere we call earth. Probably if someone reads this, they can try describing their own corner and discover what they can find interesting, once they start noticing things around. Ok now that I know what to name this, probably this is how most of the chapters will go. But then again, you can never guarantee, how long I will be interested to continue. See you around with another "View from the window".