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A few days of work

Free world does not appeal to me any more. Free world is not free any more.Free nothing appeals to me any more. Or to be precise, nothing that is free appeals to me any more. Because something that has been conceptualised under freedom will never understand what it means to not free. The only way you can understand the presence of something is after its absence and vice-versa.

The whole point of there being differences is to make you aware of the similarities. It is very entertaining to think about stuff in this manner. Destruction can only lead to creation and all of that. It actually makes a ton of sense when you think about it.

Harvest festival is here. This post is something that I am writing over the period of quite a few days. It isn't a great harvest fest, this year. We've suffered a drought.


They flew back. The birds flew back towards a lonely tree that stood in the centre of an island in the middle of the ocean. They sat on the branches and they sang songs. They fought little skirmishes and they spent the night there. In the morning they left. The tree was still lonely.

End of Story.

I have been writing this post for a few days now. I am posting whatever it is.



Then one day a little bird came along. It wasn't pretty or big, it was a tiny thing, very plain and brown, but its bust was yellow. And the little bird came to the tree and flew away and came back again, and thus gradually it built a tiny nest on the tree and then sang its mediocre songs to it till the tree died in boredom and mild peace.

Whether the tree still moped about the birds that flew away is not clear at the moment. The yellowbust guessed not.