Beginnning/Etc.

Let me ask my readers how do you begin something? You just drop in or practice the act in your mind. Mind the centre of darkness and light. Yesterday night I thought of writing.Retelling.But I found my words too geometric. I was trying to appease the need to express my feelings. It was blunt.Shame.What shame?
I read it somewhere that writing is good for mental health. So when I sit down to write does it involve willpower or anything associated. A medical prescription.Five pages of writing. I once chanced upon this article. Writing is like energy transmission. Newton is after all celebrated for his famous declaration "energy can neither be created nor destroyed." So words are units of energy? Zilch. When a man decides to write something does that mean he has the structure already in his mind? The content.The outcome. How does variations occur then?
I have lost the habit of writing. I used to write a journal jotting down my thoughts and jargon of experience. But it's like capturing memories forever. Good and bad. Philosophers/Doctors always prescribe "letting go". Diaries function differently. After a year or two when I sat down to read the pages of blotted ink or scribbles I reflected what thoughts generate in ones mind?" Gosh! I have changed so much" or maybe"This incident made me cry, Huh! So immature."One plus one plus one plus one is not four. It is one plus one plus one plus and one plus. Each day should be treated separately. Each day new lessons fill up our real life syllabus; a new one and the adding goes on. A different maths.Maths of the esoteric. Maths is beautiful. Mysteries may be not. Maths and mystery go hand-in-hand. Admired divorce couple.
I paint as well. Flowers mostly. Red roses. It's like maintaining a garden. While painting each flower I feel God is an excellent painter. Each flower stands out different. Forget science for sometime Nietzche. Each petal, each flower possess this uniqueness. The depth of colours determines the quality. The depth of a human too determines value. Humans are flowers.Red.Blue.Pink.Orange.Black.White.Rainbow.The world is like a huge garden.Huge.The sky is the limit. The sky overlooks and smiles in the form of rain and shows anger in the form of destruction. Men die. Flowers dry as well. Some die fast. Some flowers catch attention faster.Whose?You tell. Garden analogy.Not Green.But Grey.Blurred.Greyout.