question

When it comes to trusting people, is it incorruptibility to not learn from betrayals, or is simply foolishness?

old dreams

I recently read a letter which had a vision of my future. The writer imagined that four years later, in 2013, I'd be teaching a group of 18 year olds about languages across the world. I'd also be alone in a different city somewhere, spending my free time walking around, soaking my senses in myriad sights, sounds, smells.

When I read that letter, it struck me how old some of my closest dreams are. It doesn't make my desire to become a teacher more valid than someone who has decided to teach today. It doesn't rule out new dreams, younger dreams. I'm simply humbled by their power. Things change every day; there are no footprints in a desert. Once in a while, a wind blows again and again, steady among the shifting sand dunes.

This wind is now making me change my direction once again. If you know anyone who has done or is doing a B. Ed in India, do let me know. I want to become a teacher.

Rim Jhim Gire Saavan - Manzil

Banjara - Maatibaani ft. Mooralala Marwada

Pehla Nasha - Jo Jeeta Wohi Sikandar (Cover by Alaa Wardi)

via Sharan

#kurta #beard #earnestness #typical #hopelesslove

screaming

A precious advantage to having your own place is the freedom to scream. One afternoon when the lights were burning the back of my eyes once again, I went to office, stood under the shower and screamed. I screamed with my mouth wide open, then shutting again, in fear. After all, the windows of the bathroom were made of glass with wide mouths of their own. I pressed my spongey lips on the bathroom wall and screamed into it. I beat my forehead and crushed my heart inside my throat. I wanted to reach inside myself and grasp that; heavily webbed sticky dense untouchable yet so heavy, so heavy. Had I no friends in this city I would have screamed freely in my own house and cleaned up later quietly.

Susan Gowling, Those Precious Hours

because sometimes you don't know how to say what you're feeling - and that's okay. thank you smru

The White Rabbit's Evidence, by Lewis Carroll

They told me you had been to her,
And mentioned me to him:
She gave me a good character,
But said I could not swim.

He sent them word I had not gone
(We know it to be true):
If she should push the matter on,
What would become of you?

I gave her one, they gave him two,
You gave us three or more;
They all returned from him to you,
Though they were mine before.

If I or she should chance to be
Involved in this affair,
He trusts you to set them free,
Exactly as we were.

My notion was that you had been
(Before she had this fit)
An obstacle that came betwen
Him, and ourselves, and it.

Don't let him know she liked them best,
For this must ever be
A secret, kept from all the rest,
Between yourself and me.