maadhyam333

[maadhyam333]

26th March, 2024

Colloquialisms and Coffee

Crystal tears, hear me come

Shed blood off these skies

The forest is burning red, like embers of my love

Ash where once was flavour

And what has blossomed, dies

Sweet nectar, flow into my veins

Give me ichor and breath

My branches are tired, my roots are dry

And the sky is all I have left.

[maadhyam333]

18th March, 2024

Colloquialisms and Coffee

Limitless boundaries. Endless skies. My colloquialisms are waning out, as is motivation. 20 days of penance. A life devoid of sin. Hedonistic pleasures drowning out the voices of regret and guilt. I am tired of this brain weaving it's intricate web of expressions of apathy disguised as bravado. It is good to put this into concrete walls of texts. Walls can be put up as easily as they can be broken. Feelings can fade as quickly as they come. This is my vomit of expressions arising from within. I hope putting them up will help me detatch myself from the pit i keep lurching into. I am the eraser wiping these clouds away. To leave simply endless skies. Limitless boundaries.

[maadhyam333]

15th Of March

Friday

Black lines cannot be hidden by silver linings.

Pink and Yellow is still showing wherever I go. There is something beautiful in coloring the world in your colors, I have learnt again and again to look at colors wherever I go. Black and White when I was a child, Grey when I saw within. In the friends I made, the flowers I picked, opaline pastels in my lovers and Red when with my blood.

Why must I brush apon every moment? I don't recall a master teaching me the intricacies of watercolor, I do recall a drawing I made of hills, a sun and clouds. The sun was purple, the grass was blue. I don't remember what the clouds were, clouds change their colors every hour. Colors never made me feel much either. Beauty I could behold and the 7 billion shades that walk our earth have tones i keep noting each time, even they could barely reach inside places of my heart.

How do I paint on top of black? Coats of primer stop black from bleeding through but a trained eye will tell you the difference in the color on top of it. Is that why I find it hard to hide black when it occurs? I try to admire the whole piece instead of the single shade, color theory told my brain to admire the visual aesthetics and appreciate the depth behind an artists choice. But does the color of a scene equate the totality of A Hero's Journey? We are more than the colors we paint in the world around us. And throughout my entire life, I've never managed to find what color it is that the world paints upon me?Thoughts tell me sometimes that I could be a shade of black layered again and again by coats of primer and the thousands of colors these 'broken' artists leave apon my soul and when I wrote this out another thought showed my soul akin to that of a dove fleeting from the ground away from thousands of hands trying to sign a color on my body! Oh god am I tired of painting each instance, and not a single part of me wants to break away. Colors have made my life seem akin to a moment in the Isles of Bliss. And when I have left this body I shall know I tried to bring my pink and yellow wherever I went :'), but my brush shall never run out of paints. The polychromaticness of a brain dulls any black I see, and my bliss of ignorance for my color suffices for now. The art of a life lived in color can never truly end, I tell myself

[maadhyam333]

Colloquialisms and Coffee

30th Jan 2024

Empty spaces. They cannot be filled, with emotions or time. Monuments that try to stand in them erode, people come and go, souls evolve from mind to bones. Empty spaces remain. What does it feel to be in an empty space? Very few of us here can capture that feeling, if not none. Is it just a juxtaposition to the eastern philosophies of nothingness? Taoism grapples with the necessity of being at one with silence, controlling the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions that tend to pull apart the heads of their owners. It teaches that to be next to nothingness is to be above all. There are a thousand different philosophies trying to bridge the gap between empty spaces and our minds.

The truth, in fact,is harder. Imagine being in yourself an empty space. Here Emptiness from the great minds of our own Asian origin, also tries to awaken it's followers. In Buddhism, ' Shunyata' refers to the state of pure consciousness a mind reaches when emptied of all sounds, images and objects. It is akin to a meditative trance - powerful in nature.

In the grand scheme of things, one may encounter the mysterious strands of emptiness that weave the fabric of existence. It's not a nothingness to be avoided but a potentiality to be explored, a cosmic riddle posed by the universe—a secret whispered in the infinite expanse of space. Welcome the emptiness, for in its quiet halls, the reverberations of opportunity mingle with the absurdity of being. It's the cosmic chuckle, a nudge from the void, reminding us that even nothingness is something to wonder about.

[maadhyam333]

Colloquialisms and Coffee

16th Jan 2024

The cafeteria would be where our thoughts flow the least. Abundant stimulation, with aromatic coffee and savouries for each kind, where students come to miss a class or process it.

Take the cashier dealing with his struggles of juggling thirty different orders from thirty different children, the posturing beauties that adorn every chair, testorone boosted conversations drowning out the constant noise of cutlery and the occasional fight.

Would you find it calming? Would the mind switch off and let awareness and bliss fall into your head? When you detatch yourself from your surroundings and the loudest voice is the one in your head, what does it say?

"In the midst of chaos, find the serenity within. Like a still lake reflecting the turbulent sky, meditation unveils the clarity that noise seeks to conceal."