I want to write something.
“Confidence is beyond boredom. You perfect it until you are bored. That is when you discover it.” — Manoj Pun Tilija
Dessarie wants to be the star of the show. She wants to be the center of attention and be acknowledged for her beautiful performance on the stage. But a play is a play, a role is just a role. The little I claims to be this, the real I sheds light on this. And that is the end of the story.
Practice makes perfect.
Let me correct Perfect practice makes perfect.
But what is a perfect practice? is it an emulation of your role model? Is it working under the guidance of a master? is it an individual discovery?
What if the practice you think you are working on is not perfect? what if what you are working on is not what you envision?
I have no qualms against practicing to be better at something. But give yourself a second here and see what is practiced.
Since the writer discontinued his writing sessions, he thought less. Conversations were lifeless. It was uninspiring. It was dull and vanilla. The writer’s hobby is not to write but to think. To think deeply, to think lightly, to think the left way, and to think the right way. To think from the top and from the back, to think like a narcissist or an echoist.
Like step, walking, running, and soaring.
To think, wondering, imagining and discovering.
It all begins with a seed thought, writing is but just a means to give the mental the structure, the imaginary to become tangible.
If it all begins with a thought, So what is a perfect thought?
Ah, I am glad you asked a QUESTION.
What is a perfect thought?
You tell me.
