Life As I Know It

Blocking someone is an unilateral decision made that effects two people. I personally have never been comfortable blocking people because I don’t like making a choice for someone. It is not fair on my part. Most often on social networking sites I’m a private user and only people I permit in my virtual world get to walk across the threshold and that is how I prefer things, where I am in control of who gets to see what and how much of what I post on the internet. As you grow older people get too close for comfort or so distant that you don’t even know why you are on each other’s friends list. Under those circumstances I just unfriend/unfollow/Delete person from my phone-book because I know if I am feeling that way about someone and that I am giving up on reacquainting myself with them means I will certainly never be interacting with them on my own accord. By not blocking them I leave the window open for any communication or insults they may want to throw my way because bel

Today I HAD to tag along with my dad as he shopped at the super market because I had given my vehicle for servicing and needed a ride back home. I haven’t shopped for groceries in a long time. As I helped him get everything on the list I realized that there weren’t many people around. Everybody who was there was old and I was probably the youngest shopper. I looked around and saw all these cute old people pushing their carts, pausing at every isle and pondering if they should turn in and see the shelves. There was this one old woman who seemed to remember a new item every time her turn came up for billing. One of the assistants offered to help her but she was adamant about going and picking exactly what she wanted without any aid. She relinquished her spot twice this way and as I watched her I was amused and at the same time pleased to see someone so old being so energetic. Each billing counter was occupied by an oldie. I told my dad about the woman who kept forgetting items on

When I watched the first episode I wanted to give up half way and yet I forced myself to sit through it. The episode left my mind in a tussle. The first thing that crossed my mind when I watched the episode was “ The Bed” by Tracey Emin. I remember looking at the image and wondering why someone would pay to see that or why would someone not get her into therapy after such a confession. Is madness intrinsic in art? Are the two inclusive of each other? Why is it that in the modern day we find art in brutality? Why must we conjure and explore the demons deep within us to put before people to have them praise/criticize it? Why would anyone subject something so personal to them to public scrutiny? More importantly how can I sit back and say I understand the reason for the art and its placement or even understand the underlying emotion. Yes, I am hopeless at conceptual art. My understanding is limited to brush strokes and use of colors so it is further limited only to paintings and nothing