Morphin’ words.

Language,

The spoken words, evolves the meaning of word. This can shift over time as we use it.  Words are, of course the most powerful drug used by mankind.

They are the pale shadows of forgotten names. As names have power the words have power. Words can light fires in the mind of men. Words can wring tears from the hardest heart. Words create the word

Paul Tillich puts it well, Language… created the word loneliness to express the pain of being alone. And it has created the word solitude to express the glory of being alone. Words are like nets we hope they’ll cover what we mean, but we know they can’t possibly hold that much joy or grief or wonder… as Jodi Picoult observes in change of heart.

Though I personally believe we developed Language because of our deep inner need to complain. Considering English, its strength and vitality lies in its readiness to welcome new words and expressions and to accept new meaning for old word.

Many of these words depart as quickly as they arrived. This was groovy, then they became cool, and now they rock!

Like the word dinner http://plinkyprompt.wordpress.com/2012/04/21/welcome-to-brinner/ that originally meant the first heavy meal of the day. Today has come to mean something totally different.  In any case to quote T.S.Eliot from four quartets

“For last year’s words belong to last year’s language

And next year’s words await voice

The other day we were discussion division of labour when my tween daughter burst into giggles, for them the word labour manifested only in the gynecological form.

Or when I took the classification of hero in a classical play and I referred to the hero as “Gay” which in our time, someone who was light-hearted and fun loving, but today the connotation is different. This goes for the word funny too. From being amusing funny has come to mean something unethical or out of the normal. Here are some more that I found http://kitabikida.wordpress.com/2013/03/18/neword/

The only great enemy of clear language is insincerity. When there is a gap between one’s real and one’s declared aims, one turns, as it were, instinctively to long words and exhausted idioms like a cuttlefish squirting out ink.

 

Ay trees an’ forests.

When I see outside my window what do I see? Trees or forests, well if it is a reference  to the analogy on focusing on too much of details of a situation i.e. the trees, or not seeing  the big picture, well that depends on what I am looking for. Sometimes the tree stands out in a forest; sometimes the forest eats the tree.   What really interests me is not the gorgeous forest but the tree that learns to grow in a cemetery there can be nothing more alive than that.

Each forest has its own personality not like how English woodland is different from Central American rain forest or comparing the tracts of sunderbans with the Western Ghats… they have their own unique gossip, their sounds, their whisper and smells. A voice speaks up when you enter their acres, these cannot be mistaken for each other the voice stays true to those particular trees individual rather than their species.

The analogy refers to the type of people, the people who see the big picture who tend to be strategic, creative and visionaries, may be forgetful, messy and disorganized too.. or those who focus on details, the conscientious, meticulous and exacting, but they also fail to prioritize and lack perceptiveness.  Though my personal take is that we see what we want to see, in one situation where i am confident I might be capable of seeing the big picture if I am not then I will work the details.

A big picture thinker—can solve complex problems by recognizing patterns, they can come up with innovations and re-invention, they hate routine work, errands and form filling. They could run a check list but detail work plan no,

While a detail thinker – is so focused on the details that he could miss the big picture despite being smart. He could be the butt of jokes saying he lacks common sense. He has a tendency to over thinks so much so high lighting notes makes no sense to him. He would rather tweak or edit a plan than come up with it from scratch.

If you are inquiring about what I see in the physical state then I see birds that nest on the trees, for we live on the edge of a forest I hear the roar of the ocean and see the grey-blue seawater welcoming the green-blue river water.

Ay forests an’ trees.

When I see outside my window what do I see? Trees or forests, well if it is a reference  to the analogy on focusing on too much of details of a situation i.e. the trees, or not seeing  the big picture, well that depends on what I am looking for. Sometimes the tree stands out in a forest; sometimes the forest eats the tree.   What really interests me is not the gorgeous forest but the tree that learns to grow in a cemetery there can be nothing more alive than that.

Each forest has its own personality not like how English woodland is different from Central American rain forest or comparing the tracts of sunderbans with the Western Ghats… they have their own unique gossip, their sounds, their whisper and smells. A voice speaks up when you enter their acres, these cannot be mistaken for each other the voice stays true to those particular trees individual rather than their species.

 The same goes for the big picture and details, it is the detail that makes the big picture, the pin down the detail that you need.

If you are enquiring about what I see in the physical state then I see birds that nest on the trees, for we live on the edge of a forest I hear the roar of the ocean and see the grey-blue seawater welcoming the green-blue river water.

Ay forests an’ trees.

When I see outside my window what do I see? Trees or forests, well if it is a reference  to the analogy on focusing on too much of details of a situation i.e. the trees, or not seeing  the big picture, well that depends on what I am looking for. Sometimes the tree stands out in a forest; sometimes the forest eats the tree.   What really interests me is not the gorgeous forest but the tree that learns to grow in a cemetery there can be nothing more alive than that.

Each forest has its own personality not like how English woodland is different from Central American rain forest or comparing the tracts of sunderbans with the Western Ghats… they have their own unique gossip, their sounds, their whisper and smells. A voice speaks up when you enter their acres, these cannot be mistaken for each other the voice stays true to those particular trees individual rather than their species.

 The same goes for the big picture and details, it is the detail that makes the big picture, the pin down the detail that you need.

If you are enquiring about what I see in the physical state then I see birds that nest on the trees, for we live on the edge of a forest I hear the roar of the ocean and see the grey-blue seawater welcoming the green-blue river water.

Fa Ah am.

What defines my world?

My world is  captured by Lewis Carroll words everything would be nonsense, nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn’t. And contrary wise what is, it wouldn’t be. And what it wouldn’t be, it would do you see?

New Yorker’s say you are what you eat,

Californians say you are what you drive

French say you are “what you wear”

Our ancestors tell us you are the company you keep.

Wonder what that makes me?

I eat leftovers,

Ride a terminally ill Kinetic Honda

Wear whatever handy stuff available

And am with sick my entire day!

My guardian angel tells me—

Throw the samosa, into a dustbin– buy one don’t be one!

Hit Jim – I mean the gym

Get a new wardrobe,

Finally drive your hubby up the wall

Sounds an interesting proposition what say?
I’m sure every mother must have gone through this conversation sometime in her life.

Jokes apart,  Henry Rollins in right -I believe that one defines oneself by reinvention. To not be like your parents. To not be like your friends. To be yourself. To cut yourself out of stone.

Yer time tae shine.

every one goes on about the early bird getting the worms, wonder if anyone thought of the worm, how would it work for him?  I perfectly agree with Ogden Nash when says, the bed is a bundle of paradoxes, we go to it with reluctance, yet we quit it with regret We make up our minds every night to leave it early. But up our bodies every morning to keep it late.

There are nights that we do something we will be sorry for the next morning, those nights it might be a good idea to sleep late.

You know the way I avoid checking mail just in case I have to acknowledge work, or any challenge, getting out of bed may avoidance too. incidentally  waking up and getting out of bed are independent issues. Catherine O’hara says night-time is really the best time to work. All the ideas are there to be yours because everyone else is a sleep. Well, where I come from, early morning hours are mine, no television, no noise just the cool early morning breeze and the night animals drone.

A night owl or an evening person is a person who tends to stay up until late night.  The early bird is opposed to this, someone who tends to begin sleeping at a time that is considered early and also wakes early in many countries early birds are called A-people  and night owls are called B-People . that is however ridiculous,  the wakefulness of the person depends on many factors, like his fatigue level, his repair and rejuvenating status, his work load, his level of joy at work, medications so on so forth not to mention the circadian rhythm.

Of course people like to whether you are an early bird of night owl, is an genetic determination, to me it occurs that it is hereditary and environmental.

As for me, I have never figured out, for as early as I can remember I have trained myself to wake up at 4 am.

Hopefully someday I shall achieve my secret dream of simple living, that get up in the morning, without an alarm or having to wake up half the family, go to bed when I am really sleepy and in between occupy myself as best as I can.

Until then I go with Marcus Aurelius,– I rise up in the morning to the call of the alarm, think of what a precious privilege it is to be alive – to breathe to think, to enjoy, to love.

Below is the link to a similar prompt.

http://plinkyprompt.wordpress.com/2012/09/24/early-spyug-an-owl/

Booked...

Reblogged from bookshelf:

Picking up favourite books is like picking the body that you’d not like to loose.

Groucho Marx says outside of a dog, a book is a man’s friend and inside of a dog it’s too dark to read. The later part I agree, but Groucho, dogs bark and demand attention, books don’t demand they only compel.

Like Lloyd Alexander says we don’t need to have just one favourite.

Read more… 169 more words