PrefaceI shared a post. She thanked me. Ultimately, this crap happened.Dear sis, Excuse me!
I am dreaming and writing, same like traffic rule. I am writing my own life rule. Only reference I have is the never written 'Book of Stupidity – volume Nil.'I am conscious enough to distinguish between real and fake, but not abstract or real, nor virtual or real. At the same time I am feeling 'ups' and 'down' with mixed emotions.However, ringing the isolated and inactive section that may trigger upon abrupt interrupt is neutral idea. I rather call this action, an attempt to leak information form encrypted drive, your brain is what I am pointing to.Now the stupidity begins. This sounds recurring but never re-told. On mean time, our brain takes the shortcuts to understand the pattern. May I dare to call yours is an exception? Here, I am making a different approach to fool myself. In fact, I have both luck and experience doing so.'Come to the point' is your call. Before I do so, I must mention, you have a capability to take things to different height. Grand Cannon incident is a perfect one to explain here. The very moment, I was willing to get myself kicked from an edge, I was thinking of result there after. Then on no time, you turn-table to make everything all right, balanced, justified, parallel and never ending stream of mixed results. You give a node to a dry branch, greenery to a dry leaf, oxygen to suffocating dude, no matter in what form you exists, you always are a mystery to me. [N]ow why not to give this a romantic turnover! I can feel the equality, I can feel the justice thus justified.On dark side, fellas shall never act 'his' worst role to make you feel troubled. Crap! this ends my dream. […] what only my brain permits me to write in conscious - you are always awake not to miss opportunity to climb Grand Canyon. Personally speaking, what I think is only the consequence of falling from Grand Canyon, here you give me a lighting prospective that climbing to the edge matters, but falling is only the 'dead' culture we are living with. Why I didn't think this way, I need to trouble climbing to the edge - burn my calories, work day and night, risk slipping back to ground, risk my life, invest my time - so far, edge is only the destination. I like questioning myself, 'Hey Sandip! Do you stop living knowing that death is only the door you can escape from?'
I shall compare you (Neeta Timsina) with 'Pi.'Yours Stupid Brother,