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I am having a spacer's block. All of a sudden when I am done with my exams and I have plenty of time to blog, I do not know what to talk about! Honestly, I feel like all my thoughts have dried up and I am vacant of ideas to discuss or issues to ponder. I am listless, thoughtless, and hopeless. Waiting for my semester results which are out in a week or so, I am coming up with apocalyptic scenarios, vast numbers of them, they come in different sizes, designs, and colours: some about my grades, a few about a golden opportunity I have to attend a summer course in Germany that may pass ungrasped, some are concerned with how my parents are and might continue to choke the life out of me for the rest of my breathless time on this planet, and plenty of them on the Middle East and what may happen to us one day....when is our turn? Because we all know it's in the pipeline! But we just do not know what do the US have in store for us, currently they are working to ensure we are all ammunition-free, weapon-less, thoughtless, and lacking in every sense and respect. That would make us an easy target, easy to poach on, and domineer. And we are nodding quietly, too scared to speak up and upset the Supreme Power and its allies. Sometimes I blame our leaders for behaving so passively and yielding to every command and "suggestion", but then again, it might be safe and responsible, merely an attempt to safeguard what may be the remains of what once used to be powerful resourceful and influential countries!

As you can see, I am not really suffering from a "Spacer's block", but simply a monotony in ideas and thoughts. They are the same questions and concerns repeating themselves over and over, deep rooting themselves in my brain and intriguing the life out of me.

Anyways, moving to more cheerful territories which keep us surviving, this is to my dad, whom I haven't seen for 6 months and finally got together with 3 days ago:

When my wrenched heart quietly longs

To peck a kiss on your rough cheek,

And wrap my arms round you,

I just wonder, what makes you so special?

So beloved to my heart, and missed by my soul?

Why does a photo of you and me

Sting my eyes with hot loving tears?

You are just an average-sized man,

 Far from striking handsome or attractive,

Or muscular, tough, and burly!

Your hair has served age its purpose,

What remains of it is a white-grey blend,

Concerns and work have marked your face

With wrinkles that spell out your griefs,

You make me beg for every little thing,

And surround me with sarcastic remarks,

Mocking my deranged pathetic thoughts,

You find great humor in provoking me,

Waking up the angry devil within me,

Laughing at my "LITTLE" worries,

Hypnotising me with your fatherly advice,

For all that and more, I love you,

For that affectionate tender heart of yours,

The firmness in your words, the warmth of your embrace,

Growing up striving for independence except

Of your everlasting smiles and support,

The life I live I owe to you,

Every precious joyous moment is because of you,

 And every success I celebrated is yours too.

I wish I can thank you enough,

What's a Father's Day going to do?

But Happy Father's Day anyway,

And I'm so sorry I was away.

Dad, I hope you like this, and speaking of your unbounded generosity and understanding.......I need an MP3 player!! 512 MB!

And note that I am kind enough not to specify an iPOD!

Jane Austen (1775 - 1817), Mansfield Park

We are like sculptors, constantly carving out of others the image we long for, need, love or desire, often against reality, against their benefit, and always, in the end, a disappointment, because it does not fit them.

Anais Nin (1903 - 1977)

I don't know about u, but I am always 'sculpting', and not just out of people what I desire to see in them, but out of life, I am always planning ten years ahead, I am always expecting too much, climbing the highest mountains with my thoughts and aims, then crashing headfirst down into reality with a blow to my head and a shake to my system that keeps me feeling indescribably( don't know if that word is right, never mind, u know what I mean!) depressed for days, until like Austen puts it I make "a second better" calculation to fix the mishap, which most of the time takes me through another frustration road, and the disappointments continue.

I suppose the problem is in the mountains I climb, the rivers I cross, and the aims I put for myself, they are just very very good, not that nobody goes that far, but very few do. It's unhealthy and pathetic to make these perfect goals my ambition, because then I will never feel that I have acheived, there will always be something lacking, because I am not perfect, and I do not think I wish to be.

I am sure most of you reading this will relate to it very well,  I know all my friends will, college friends, school friends, teens, adults, whatever, at some point in all our lives we have expected too much, then got slapped real hard in the face it bled, and we thought it would bleed forever, but it wasn't long before the scars were gone, and we moved on to something new. But it takes long before we realize that nothing is wrong with the world, it's fine, the fault is ours. We make impossibly perfect achievements our goals, and starry dreams our ambitions, then fret when they don't come true! We are the greedy ones, the world is not miserly with us.

To celebrate an achievement and see a better world, just put more reasonable goals for yourself. Easy to say, hard to do.

(No, that's not me!)

By William Wordsworth

I have always loved Wordsworth's work, it touches you straight away and his words are always weaved into a sublime piece of art, but some of his beautiful poetry is not that known, I am not sure about this one, but I don't think it's as famous as 'The Inward Eye' for example, yet it is just as beautiful. I don't think a woman can be praised in better words than these.