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Nithin Purple

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“The love Nora and I shared was certainly grand. We built our own fantasy worlds. We would sometimes role-play. At times, she was the captive and I was the rescuer who traveled the world and swam the seven seas to save her. Other times, she was the nurse who attended to my needs as I recovered from a deadly unknown disease, which was miraculously cured by love and a soft kiss from her luscious lips. We shared everything with each other. We found happiness, we found comfort, we found security, and we found love. Together, we would let our imaginations soar beyond the heavens. We imagined what our wedding would look like, and the songs we would dance to. We named our future kids.”

“Caught off guard. I was handled a thread, my imagination was handled a thread. And because I know my mind well, I know it would have preferred me saying "it was gifted", but here we are, yet another conflict, a sad heart is protesting, so we are back to the start "my imagination was handled a thread." So, recklessly but not reluctantly, currently running marathons, painting drafts, writing notes, taking deep breathes, and staring at guilt wine-stained skies, here we are again, all because of a tiny thread. Lucky me; check the foundation, check the walls, feel the beating heart and not only that but have a taste of the cherry on top, then, leave. Caught off guard, I'm left holding an endless thread, walking a road leading to an infinite ocean of possibilities, my mind is childish enough to only draw the best ones, only draw the best scenarios, to only draw my fairytale. Think twice, you are not a queen, you are not a princess, you are just a maiden, with a bright mind, caught in an endless loop of beautiful scenarios, like usual, all mine.”

“If you don't want a man unhappy politically, don't give him two sides to a question to worry him; give him one. Better yet, give him none. Let him forget there is such a thing as war. If the government is inefficient, top-heavy, and tax-mad, better it be all those than that people worry over it. Peace, Montag. Give the people contests they win by remembering the words to more popular songs or the names of state capitals or how much corn Iowa grew last year. Cram them full of noncombustible data, chock them so damned full of 'facts' they feel stuffed, but absolutely 'brilliant' with information. Then they'll feel they're thinking, they'll get a sense of motion without moving. And they'll be happy, because facts of that sort don't change. Don't give them any slippery stuff like philosophy or sociology to tie things up with. That way lies melancholy. Any man who can take a TV wall apart and put it back together again, and most men can nowadays, is happier than any man who tries to slide-rule, measure and equate the universe, which just wont be measured or equated without making man feel bestial and lonely.”