Candyfloss Intensity

Just one of those people you think that would never smile - with their glum and/or stoned faces - popping the bubbles frothing up inside you, frank and harsh. And then one day, they break into a grin - the widest, and the most beautiful that you have ever seen.

Gosh, Isn't it amazing how you can feel an instant connection with someone you don't even know? The moment, the feeling, and the situation that binds you to them is so profound and inexplicable. You can't do much about it but enjoy the surreality and joy, before moving on with life. You can go back to it another day but what you'd experience is all but the dust of that quondam warmth.

--

Maybe I am romanticizing a simple incident far too much. The cynic in me bleeds, and calls me a loser, as usual. But, Oh was it sweet.
Breaks my heart (:

Anyway, things are what I perceive them to be. And I choose the sugar-oozing candyfloss way of life. (Urghh the calories..)

All things said and done, I would rather talk about this than say, Mondays. Or school. Or physics. Or about how my brain doesn't seem to have any moment of inertia to speak of- stopping abruptly, just when it starts getting around a new concept or an idea. Sigh.

And OMG, how can I forget.
#Confession: I absolutely LOVE, ADORE and REVERE William Blake. He is like THE man!

I have been devouring his "The Marriage of Heaven and Hell" as though my life would be sucked into a vacuum otherwise. The ardor with which he opposes institutionalized religion and conventional morality is simply spell-binding. The intensity of his emotions and writing, and the revolutionary ideas behind it are all just simply astonishing. I could go on and on about his artistry and skill. He's such a genius!

Not to say that I agree with all of his ideas. I find some of them a bit too radical and biased. But I am completely in awe of his charm and intensity, that seem to hit you at every turn, growing steadily till the very end. Then the emptiness and confusion hits home. It's just too good!

" Let the Priests of the Raven of dawn, no longer in deadly black, with hoarse note curse the sons of joy. Nor his accepted brethren, whom tyrant, he calls free: lay the bound or build the roof. Nor pale religious letchery call that virginity, that wishes but acts not!

For every thing that lives is Holy. "

-- My love