Wednesday, July 20, 2016


On the way back from a friend's house last night, Don McLean's 'Vincent' came on the radio, or 'Starry Starry Night' as it is better known as. Since the first time I ever heard it, this song has held the power to send me off on a melancholy walk through the dark tunnels inside my head, for some reason I never quite grasped. It wasn't any different last night. Not that I was in a chirpy mood to start with. You see, I've been trying to deal with some 'issues' lately, which many will say are just a regular part of growing up. But me, I find it difficult to process and accept facts like people we hold dear may not sometimes value us as much as we do them, or that people are often not what they project themselves to be. I just don't get it, this game of charades. I have intentionally always kept away from it, and I don't understand why anyone would want to take part in it in the first place. Each to their own, you could say, but I'd be lying if I said it didn't bother me when I realized some 'loved ones' had always only pretended to be the way they are in front of me. Anyways, I should probably save that story for another day.

Back to Vincent, the song, which led to me think about Vincent Van Gogh, the painter who inspired the song. The song made me google some of his works, and 
the question popped up in my head: has this world finished its quota of good artists forever? All the legendary painters, singers, sculptors, scientists have now been and gone. Are we ever going to see any more of such massively talented people? What is the future for art like? To be quite honest, the future of music seems quite bleak to me. The possibility of getting another Elvis or another Sinatra is next to nil, while the likes of Kanye and Beiber keeps increasing. At this rate, we may be heading for a world devoid of good art.  How depressing is that thought?

Tuesday, July 19, 2016

Back to life

Life had taken over, and I had forgotten about this space. This space that had given me much joy and serenity in the past had to move over to make space for the mundane banalities of adult life, and for a long while, I didn't get the time or energy to sit down and reflect on my thoughts. I felt the need to, from time to time, but I just couldn't find it in myself to gather my thoughts for some reason. But things changed recently and as I have often done in the past, I felt the need to turn to my writing, to pour my heart out and heal myself again. So here I am, once again, with not much to say but a universe inside my head that's currently in a whirlpool and needs to calm down.