writer

Eye Hurting Blog


Who has this blog? Eye Hurting Blog? Well, you are at its page this very moment. Sometimes, I feel like the traffic of my thoughts is jammed and I find myself unable to write anything. I sit in front of my laptop and stare the screen. Then I clicked on a random post and read it sparingly. Then grabbing the meaning I hit like or don’t. This blog sometimes is just a pain in my eyes. Sometimes I am not a blogger. Just some lazy person who does not want to do anything.

What is it all about? Does the world need it? What if I don’t write and waste my time in front of TV browsing?

I really do not speak my mind all the time. My most “unpopular” posts are the one which I write after thinking a lot and weighing  every word. On the other hand my popular posts are nothing just what my brain transfers to my fingers and they start jumping on the keyboard leaving the impressions on these pages.

What is it? I really do not know.

Words Retention: A Writers’ Disease


Words retention is a disease in writing world. It happens when due to any cause(s) a writer does not write. Heaviness in heart and fogging in mind are the most common symptoms of this diseases. The severity of the symptoms are directly proportional to the time the words retained in the mind of a writer. In worse scenarios a writer can become cranky.
Oh yes, I am trying to be very precise and ‘to-the-point’ here, but I am really feeling like punching someone in the face.
I also feel like crying, throwing things out of the window, yelling at the people on TV and dropping plant pots on the passersby’s heads. So, probably, in the worst case Words Retention can become a cause of violent type of psychological disorders.
You are right if you are thinking that I am just rambling here and there is no scientific base to this theory. So what? I have been retaining many words as some of them made their way out here on this WordPress blog.

When People Stop Following My Blog


One day, I realized that the number of my blog followers is not increasing like it was increasing when I joined WordPress. Well, maybe, one is reason is; I am not very active and not being the crazy blogger I used to be. And second reason is; I have been thinking a lot that my mind is numb. Well, I was talking about the wordpress followers following everything but my blog.
This tendency of people have made me brave. Now, when I know that people are not interested in my blah-g I am free to write whatever I want. Yay!
Ahem… Should I really be happy? Believe me I am. I am writing here anonymously and no one knows what I am up to. I can brag, I can share good things. I can kick my dark side and share with the whole world the story of what and how happened. (Like here http://storiesbundle.com ; ) I can be what I want. Because I know. No one knows that I am sharing.
This scenario have another side too. It is my side; my tendency of not improving as a blogger. SEO, search engines, permalinks, meta…metaphysics? I don’t know. Whatever I am not doing whet I used to do for others. (Yes, I used to write SEO articles). It is my space. I am freeeee! Let see who is thinking with me in the same rhythm in this huge world and joins me incidentally.

The Relationship; Part One


It may not be a perfect start for a blog post; because ultimately we all want audience. Many of the times I do care, but sometimes I do not care about what people think and who would read my writings. Well, I woke up yesterday but couldn’t find the time to write anything. I was feeling like I had not been writing for many days. It was just a few minutes ago that I checked my last post date. I wrote my last post on 3rd April and today is 8th; only 4 days in between. But for me it was a long time. Why I did not write? I did not have anything to write.
But, yesterday, something strange happened. Have you ever experience ‘wandering’? Strolling with nothing on your mind; just walking and observing surroundings. And I am not talking about rambling with your dog on walkways surrounded by green fields. I am talking about going to small roadside bazars, watching people arguing when bargaining over a few pennies. There, shopping choices are apparently many but possibilities are limited. I am talking about a walk on small lanes and along unfinished road tracks, dusty and muddy.
I went on such a walk yesterday. Alone. Not with my friend this time. So, you may anticipate what a women walking alone in such areas could experience; scorching hungry dirty gazes, evil grins. But it was not the center of my attention. I just kept moving ahead. I was feeling something else; a connection that was binding me with all the surroundings. The energy that was so engaging that I did not had even a millionth of a moment to pay attention to all the negativity. I was alone, but I was feeling the traces of the shepherd’s personality even here! Everywhere! In such a place that was just opposite to the mere glimpse of him. I remember him once saying, ” Want to experience the purity? Look into a dirty pool where that flower blooms.”
A maybe 12 year old buying cheap dresses with her mother and father. I felt the innocence in her eyes that sparkled when the shopkeeper showed her something colorful.
I literally took a deep breath when there was dust everywhere and an uncovered sewerage line. Gross? Yeah, call me crazy. I wanted to feel the connection more deeply. There were houses there. People live there. They breathe. There were plants, grass and flowers along that dirty water way. Those remind me of the shepherd. The eyes of toddlers, their smiles, their cute moves, everything symbolized his speech. I noticed a wall with very beautiful hand painted pictures. There was some artist nearby.
An old man was selling fruit in front of a huge shopping mall keeping an eye on a 5,6 year old kid who probably was his grandson. The kid was sitting on the stairs of the mall writing in his small copy without noticing other kids of his age in the mall enjoying, buying expensive fun stuff and new clothes with their parents. The kid was seemed contented with his cheap looking but clean dress….
(to be cont.)

Blog: A Book Not For Sale, But to Read


Sigh! I blog because I cannot write a book. Even if I write one, who will publish it? I don’t even want to think. I have written a few pages of my 3 novels. Guess what? I will show my writings to my future kids (new kind of domestic violence, ha!).
It was after a month when I join WordPress, my sister looked at the home page and scroll it all the way down.
“You say I think a lot. You think a-l-o-t!”
She is not a huge fan, nor a wordpress follower. I don’t know it was a compliment or the plain girly ‘blah blah comment’. (We, women. We love to talk. All the time. What if we cannot solve problems! We just ‘talk them off’. Men will never understand this phenomenon.)
Well, I just write things off many times, metaphorically (here on Black Grey and White). Many times, just to give a way to the voices in my head to vent out (storiesbundle.wordpress.com) . It is approx. the middle of my life (I am going to be 27 soon), I have learned a lot, but it seems that I have to learn even more. Life is so rich of experiences and I surprisingly experience the ‘not-very-common ones’.
Sometimes, I think what will I do if I couldn’t write? Strange thought… I know.
I wish a publishing fairy come to me and say, ” I will make books of your blog and I will publish your novels. You just sit and write.”

Village News-Zoned out Writer


The light is coming through the hole in the ceiling. When it rains water finds its way easily through this hole. Nicholas never even once thinks about it. He always thinks about the fictional world only he can see. Today, however, it is a bit different here. He is zoned out. He first time thinks about the way he dresses, notices the cattle he feeds daily and walks around his small house in the middle of his farm. He earns living by selling vegetables he grows in this farm, but he never dwells in this world. He lives in his fictional world and writes about it. Now, finally when he notice the hole he wants to fix it, but suddenly, he sees a man riding on a white horse. The man is coming towards him along the beam of sun light through the hole.

He is back into his real fictional world.