The Last one.

This is this blog's last post. I thought about it much earlier but never got time to actually write about it. The shutters for this Stochastic world will never open up ever again. While i enjoyed my parts of glory and happiness and sorrows and introspection with retrospection of days when i started it and how i would indulge my whole day just thinking about the content of next post. This platform served me to express what ever i felt in a way whatever i choose to. The kind of openness and relief it provided me was surreal. While i don't indulge in any kind of sadness and wallow about my last post,i am just going to enjoy and cherish the posts (read moments) which were once part of my life,part of me ,part of everything like pockets full of sunshine trying to beam again for another sunset.

So my fellow co passengers on this journey of life i am hopeful ,may we ever meet again and cross our paths and behave like long lost souls, talking about the how wonderful and delightful the life has been since.

Good bye!

Feelings

Hello World!
Have to write this post.
Was feeling like something very important is missing out of my life.
Have been reading a lot ..
Just want to share Some random feelings that we experience day-to-day.
There names are odd but the feelings are real.



Sonder

the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own—populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness—an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you’ll never know existed, in which you might appear only once, as an extra sipping coffee in the background, as a blur of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at dusk.

Nodus tollens

the realization that the plot of your life doesn’t make sense to you anymore—that although you thought you were following the arc of the story, you keep finding yourself immersed in passages you don’t understand, that don’t even seem to belong in the same genre—which requires you to go back and reread the chapters you had originally skimmed to get to the good parts, only to learn that all along you were supposed to choose your own adventure.

Gnossienne

 a moment of awareness that someone you’ve known for years still has a private and mysterious inner life, and somewhere in the hallways of their personality is a door locked from the inside, a stairway leading to a wing of the house that you’ve never fully explored—an unfinished attic that will remain maddeningly unknowable to you, because ultimately neither of you has a map, or a master key, or any way of knowing exactly where you stand.

Adronitis
frustration with how long it takes to get to know someone—spending the first few weeks chatting in their psychological entryway, with each subsequent conversation like entering a different anteroom, each a little closer to the center of the house—wishing instead that you could start there and work your way out, exchanging your deepest secrets first, before easing into casualness, until you’ve built up enough mystery over the years to ask them where they’re from, and what they do for a living.

Catoptric tristesse

 the sadness that you’ll never really know what other people think of you, whether good, bad or if at all—that although we reflect on each other with the sharpness of a mirror, the true picture of how we’re coming off somehow reaches us softened and distorted, as if each mirror was preoccupied with twisting around, desperately trying to look itself in the eye.

These are just a few .. For the entire lot .. Visit here