It seems thoughts have rushed in unexpectedly and compressed themselves in a block of a redundant object. It’s there to weigh on the mind, shifted here and there with much effort. So many external forces shape this hideous looking piece. Not ideas of aloneness, but unwarranted information are forcibly stuck on it to tarnish the essence of thoughts. How such ideas come in as mere useless information to dilute the thought process is a cause of concern. Writing is not about translating such fragmented thoughts or ideas pulled in from dubious sources. How often the eyes are busy spying on something else as the close feelings remain neglected; abandoned, to voice their despair in a hollow. Allowing the disrespectful and untrained spatula to shape an object that is distasteful and repulsive to look at. To move away from mere exhibitionism and being comfortable with an honest creation is a transition that is not easy, given the false adulations and offensive interest will decline and damaging light will be dimmed.