The evening is a dreary one, not saying boo. Then someone switches the fan on and its isochronal whir ratifies the monotonousness with a paradoxical alacrity that I find unnerving. Such evenings fill my mind with convoluted thoughts, most of them depressing in nature. To unravel those thoughts and bring myself back to my cheery self is like loosening the Gordian knot. And like Alexander the Great, the knot (my train of thoughts) has to be cut (short) rather than untied.
By cutting short I mean not talking about these terrifying, distressing ruminations. Verbalizing acts as a catalyst; it somehow gives it a stamp of factual approval. As long as I do not speak of it, it shall remain in a latent state. By keeping the thoughts to myself, I am decelerating the inevitable, slowing down time itself. Those poignant thoughts are hoodwinked into questioning their own subsistence. The sentimental shall see this as solecism, the practical shall see it as escapism. But for the time being, I emerge the subjugator! Time to play some music, break the tedium and go back to being my sprightly self. Ta-da!! :-)
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