Rhapsody of colors

I stare hard at the keyboard hoping that the sight might lead to a flutter somewhere in my head and hence words take the form of what i possibly want to express. I can imagine myself sitting in front of a typewriter and staring at that elegant machine, but even that wouldn't help much.

I should make a note to myself to devise a more pleasant way to kickstart articulation than just rambling on for a while before coming to the point. I think it is the warm night or maybe this summer weather altogether which makes me think a little bit harder before writing anything.
I remember all summers so clearly that i can conjure up the taste of anything i must have eaten or drunk. I can smell the summer of my teenage years i can still see the heat in the air during the summer of my early 20's. It is all so familiarly delectable that i could just masticate on the memories for a long time. I must admit that after all that i still am a big fan of winters , especially the chilly ones.

Tonight is yet another of those summer nights, leaving another taste to reminisce about. "Money" is playing in the background and i am sitting protected from the heat by an air conditioner's breeze, chilly breeze. The gust of air sporadically disturbs the ends of my hair, which every now and then fall to my face creating an illusion of motion. Maybe i see my hair move and that is how i remember myself moving...with the strands around me in motion. To cut the story short, its a nice feeling.

I can also see strands of another kind surrounding me and that too gives me a sense of motion and direction. If i focus long enough i can see that the strands are actually ribbons and of many different colors. In this ocular delight i am struck by many messages on these strands. Some strands are binding and some are just without any ends. Some are quite red in color and some are very blue. Some are just plain old strands of hair.

What is this motion that i keep on sensing ? Certainly, it is not the passage of time in life as this motion was absent earlier. It also cannot be the changing distances between all that i know as those things come in neat little boxes with labels on them saying " X has changed wrt Y". What are these new strands ?

I experimented with these strands , trying to find whether i am entangled in them or not. It turns out that i am not at all entangled. The whole plumage of strands sat there like a vehicle unnerved by my abrupt exit. It is certain that those things are my own creations ,voluntary or involuntary.

I touched one of the ribbons and it sent a brutal shock , a shock straight to the thinking mind. It filled me up with a sense of urgency in action. I dared to touch another and this time it sent me to day dream. Are these things extensions or even garbage of my experiment with the thought process ?

I also discovered the strange power that these strands or ribbons exert on me when i am within them. I also look at things a little differently when i am inside this ball of sublime yet seriously ominous ribbons. Maybe it is same as looking at a keyboard and fearing how the start shall present itself or in more simple terms anxiety/ fear etc but it is far from this as i also see a prognostic diagnosis of what may lie ahead, results of which are quite alluring.

As i sit here and type out, another gush of cold wind blows the ribbons away from my vision and i see it all. I see what have written and how it may all seem.

It is all so pretty from here.

- "Young Days"
Forlorn Farceur's Diary