. . . sometimes I just sits. Here is a blogger, Pranabk in Pune, India, who has been plugging away at this for nearly four years. He is a reader as well.
And for poetry there's Trinath .
or can I ever be sure that I know what I think I know? Being erstwhile jottings of a lost soul . . . from memory
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7 comments:
Thank you for the recognition. Until now, I didn't even realize that I had given four years of my life into the blog. And why did I do that for? I still don't know. Maybe for a occasional visitor or two like you.
You're welcome.
Alan
Hi Alan. It is a good blog. Thanks for pointing it out. So what is is you are seeking yourself?
The title of the blog is just a bit of pomposity on my part. See the Zen story thirty-six, http://alan-richardson.blogspot.com/2010/03/zen-story-thirty-six.html, on Tabula Rasa.
Seeking the forks in the road? To see glimpses of other paths. Wondering what I truly know about myself. Am I just a collection of memories and stories I tell myself?
I really have a chip on my shoulder about not "passing" the 11+. About disappointing the people who had expected me to pass; I was not the only one . . .
Alan
Thanks Alan. That was a pleasant surprise to get tagged in a phrase
"And for poetry there is Trinath"
You're welcome, Trinath.
I was really impressed by this imagery:
"History stinks under its bridges
There are flushed lives all along
with blood floating on water" Especially given Indian history.
Alan
Thank you Alan.
That is true with any history I suppose. It's written in blood!
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