#less words

[providether]

Here he is again! And with rewritten lore! uglier art, ms paint this time, but i prefer it over the fucking wall of text that it was the original one, way more digestible, nobody's watching though... but oh well! that's how all stars begin isn't it? You'll know her name eventually.

[barin-mclegg]

More autistic today, yesterday. Words harder, stim more, more instruct needed. Is strange. Not bad, unfamiliar. Comfy, nice, feel needs, listen needs. Less word better. Stim feel good. Organize, keep room cleam because rest. Many guests make mess, have clean to comfort again. Rest. Still snart, many words not make smart, but learn many words make smart. Many words for other, allistic and mean people. Can make clear less words, just not grammar. Not "right", normal. Stupid. Am smart, words not make smart, thoughts make smart. Brain make smart. Words express smart, but other ways express and be smart. Nt stupid not think, know. Words less is comfy. So words less. Can still "normal", not want. Comfy, still clear, meaning. No write, but still smart. Still self. Reclaim, but later.

[random-xpressions]

To fall silent, to stay alone - two of my favourite life saviours...

Random Xpressions

[happywebdesign]

MAP Fondation

[omg-snakes]

Remember how this used to be a tumblr that only posted snake photos and not snake advice?

Deathshadow remembers.

[craigtowens]

“The time for speaking seldom arrives, the time for being never departs.” —George MacDonald

[maanishand]

29.06.2018, Friday: Word Count.

As I sit before my laptop to write this, I am very well aware of the days that passed. And they passed quickly too. Way too quickly. I have been in Delhi for the past one month. One whole month. Though I have always stayed away from home, I have never lived this far for this long. Well that’s no matter. After all, once you’ve been in a hostel you know how to cope with being away. What’s more important is that these days changed me in ways that’d have taken longer in a different setting. I was living alone in this relatives’ apartment. They were more than kind to throw open this entire place to me. I did my own cooking. Mom was on call whenever I did so, but I’m sure now I’m more or less self-sufficient. I wouldn’t have to starve anyway anymore wherever I am.

It was almost like running a house, you know, except that I didn’t have to pay the water and electricity bills. It was Delhi summer, it was hot, it was dusty – true, all that. But it was good. Coming home every evening after work (I was interning here) with a small packet of milk, unlocking the door myself, and having a cup of tea that I made myself – all these have been great. And educating. Not to say that this was some great thing that only great people do. That I achieved ‘greatness’ overnight. This piece I assure you is devoid of such bullshitting. Ordinary men and women of my age learnt and practiced these basic skills everyday from much before I was even sent to hostel. It is just that I am doing it, and I feel proud and happy about that. Things that you take for granted, are very costly after all.

But the best part of all was the writing. And the reading. If I should choose though, it’d be writing. My professor asked me to write ‘something’ every day. He said it will improve my writing. So, there I was, churning out some 600-ish words every day, about anything under the earth. After a week, he asked me to make these narratives more personal, to forget about the fact that I was writing. I tried, and boy, was this wonderful! I could see palpable changes. Well I can’t authorise my own writing, certainly, but after the month, I’m much more confident about it than before.

I was writing about my travel experiences in and around Delhi, and many other mundane things: once I even wrote about a frigging bucket of water. This was something that I loved, and this exercise made me love it better. The whole thing is slowly becoming spontaneous, I’m no longer using my English capacity to lengthen sentences to reach word count targets. Also gone, though it may come back (word count needs again, for class assignments), is my social science habit of complicating sentences. Like what I saw on social media some time back – the way we write something as simple as ‘I can’t’ as ‘I am unable to can’. Funny. Actually, not funny. Slight exaggeration maybe but it does have an element of truth.

Now when I am about to finish typing I know that I’ve already reached whatever required word count. Not that it is necessary to have this particular length writings. It comes naturally. I am not forcing it upon myself. I try spending fewer words to describe stuff. Just as my professor demanded me to. But with clarity. I guess fewer words are more clarity. I am far away from getting to ideal levels of optimum word usage, but I know I’ll get there, eventually. And getting there is worth it, you know. Because the best of things are said in the least of words.

[mintonapillow]

It fills the silence. All things are birthed from silence. Listen more, talk less.