I think people don’t understand. They don’t understand freedom. They leave their freedom to buy slavery. Then once trapped in the prison of their own making: they wonder if they can be free. And then they wonder if they can be free. Take writing for example: what do people want? The word includes publishing in it. Editing and proofreading services along with publishing have been transformed over and over-again and again. Writers who were able to earn their living based only on writing–and those who were recognised only posthumously–you have likes of the author of “The Raven,” and Plath: like Mozart and other prodigies they took the world by surprise: or so it seemed. Some others evolved into the excellence. But still there are many who are looking for validation, and even some who are actively looking for attention, are still searching for publication. I have been a person who takes things literally. Not that I lacked imagination–i had too wild an imagination and it took me to the places I would rather not visit again. Places full of suffering. I am in the habit of taking things literally. I have been in business of sorts, and after a while I realised that if I was to go on dong that I would be living just for them.

By writing: I mean writing. But publishing works like a form of record keeping. I had a hard time keeping journal online. Hackers used the information to harass me. I learn quickly and I was wondering if I would have chosen another path. No. I know. I will keep all my journals online. I don’t worry about my content being stolen. It stems from infinity. I am grounded in it and growing out of it as if with wings . I am drinking nectar like people drink water. It was a hard struggle. I respect copyright laws. I still don’t have any deep concerns about the protection of anything that belongs to me. I workout and diet. I take bath and expect the people around me to give me a little privacy and space. But if they don’t: I understand that human in them has died. It was dead since long. I didn’t develop relationships because I found myself. Relationship provide comfort but they take constant work. Some people devote all their energy in maintaining relationships. I consider them to be the means to an end. The end is the truth. The end is being and nonbeing. Why do I write? I write to entertain myself. To do something useful for the final goal of infinity. Publishing industry needs constant work. And if editing and publishing takes more energy than writing my ideas as I want to: respecting a few norms of accepted customs: I don’t consider it to be a success. I find it satisfies me if coming back to what I have written: I can read it and wonder what made me think like that. It’s success. I am sure: journal online or otherwise were meant to help people meditate. As Win Wenger said: to activate what is known as “witness sense” or the “Drishta Effect.” I do not want to forget about that. I clearly understand: all private journals are unsafe for seemingly mysterious reason that humans are supposed to have hive minds. This helps me understand the need of some people accessing what I think: even when there’s no immediate feedback. If I remember the fundamental : I am on track. It’s absolutely unnecessary to make my ideas known to all: though it certainly gives satisfaction to imagine other voices. It’s only my voice…all the times. It’s absolutely necessary to feel free to write.