Inkblot

Hello there! I missed writing in the past few days. And since I haven’t been reading anything either, writing now feels like giving a presentation without any preparation. A late realization: books were extracting my writing juices! A bizarre feeling to experience though. Lately, I’ve realized that my eyes are unknowingly filtering what they encounter amidst the chaos. I am seeing everything blue. Actually, let me correct that  "Something in Blue" is what my eyes are focusing on. You’ll know more about this in a bit. This isn’t a new trait. Ever since I can remember, I’ve filtered out the things I wanted to see. As a kid, I would get scolded for this habit, misunderstood as “absent-mindedness” by others. But observing everything all at once feels exhausting. Why should a poor three-pound-brain remember witless, unnecessary details? There was this viral reel once — a guy would walk up to people and ask them to check the time on their phone. And then he’d ask, “What’s your bat...

I don’t read self-help books. Well, I don’t read anything other than fiction. Not even biographies or autobiographies. I haven’t read the famous  ' Wings of Fire' , ' The Story of My Experiments with Truth' , or ' Playing It My Way' . But I did read Anne Frank’s ' The Diary of a Young Girl' when I was in my teens. Though I don’t remember it clearly now, I loved reading her diary! Now, you can probably guess my reading choices. In the past few years, I’ve even bought some self-help books that were highly recommended, but I haven’t opened a single one till now. And to be honest, I’m planning to give them away to someone who’s a true self-help enthusiast. Why don’t I read them? As a kid or teenager, my reason would’ve been that they lack lead characters, emotions, sky descriptions, or mood changes. I still feel that way, but now I also have a valid reason: they make me depressed . I don’t even know how to read them! I can’t enthusiastically devour them, n...