Tuesday, September 29, 2009


There are days when my happiness depresses me.


There is an ugliness to perfection - it is too obvious, too ostentatious. To be beautiful is to be damaged, in subtle and irreparable ways.

Like the wings of the butterfly crushed to pure color. Or the mournful call of the cello that knows itself alone.


Anonymous said...

It begins to hurt when I think for too long about these words!

Anonymous said...

Hauntingly beautiful words...

- Serendipity

Megha said...

Bought your book at last. Maybe now you will marry me.

Unknown said...

Only destruction can lead to creation. And every subsequent creation is far more beautiful. what more can one ask for ?
returning to the source is the most b'ful aspect of creation.

Meghana Naidu said...

stolen thoughts, from my head