A WHISPER IN YOUR HEAD

So one of my professors gave us a suggestion to write about things we generally don't care to observe, say something like the morning break; not the people themselves but the idea of a break itself. Well,  I'm going to do exactly that.  It's hard to decide whether getting a jump on the break because of a free hour is a blessing or a curse. Too many people aimlessly talking with each other. Good thing I brought my earphones. Sometimes not listening at all is better than listening everything. But hey I'm making this all about me. For a start, it is chaos when you think about the orderly classes. We listen and shove it in our head(usually) during classes. On the other side we let ourselves run amok with imagination, gossip, chugging in snacks. Stimulus goes in, stimulus goes out. Breathe in, breathe out. For some reason I'd rather find myself in here while classes occur. It seems hard to find a method in the madness of the break hour. The order, the predict...

I came across this Tumblr post, someone mentioned about this social experiment conducted by by California high school history teacher Ron Jones in 1967, called The Third Wave. Recently it has gained a decent amount of popularity. It tries to explain how the German population could have accepted the actions of the Nazi regime during the rise of the Third Reich and the Second World War. It was social experiment conducted over 5 days since he found it difficult to explain his senior level Contemporary World History class how the German people could have accepted the actions of the Nazis.   He imitated a fascist regime within his class, calling it The Third Wave. It was as real as it got, there was a banner, modes of conduct, ranks and a motto "Strength through Discipline! Strength Through Community! Strength Through Action!" Within the third day there were about 200 followers from other classrooms. Initiation methods followed, the dissenters were banished from clas...

7:00 am Good morning reader! Thing is my roommate had to leave at 5 for some affairs. Being a light sleeper, annoyingly here I am wide awake.  I haven't seen the morning sun in so long, went to the roof, touched the dew drops when I suddenly got an Andrew Tate level motivation to write, so here I am. Let's talk about them video games! To begin with I've only witnessed a little part of the great history of video games myself. I haven't been part of the ps2 era although I currently own one with no games to play with (insert sad face). Most of my earlier experience comes with pc games. The oldest games I remember playing was them flash player games. They had these Bin Laden games no kidding. One of them is called Bomb Laden, the dude pops up in the desert and you bomb him. There was another where you get to beat him up till he died. Some propaganda shit and I had no clue who the man was. Oof got to a bad start huh. Don't worry reader, it does no...

Its something that has been chiming in my head since I read Flights by Olga Tokarczuk.   Changes I am at the end of my course and like everyone others, I too feel it. The fear of missing, the fear of failing, the fear of the great unknown. Its time to move on make new choices, new faces, new stories, new lives. I think I'm gonna do the Frost even though I hate clich é (I really love this) Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth. -The Road Not Taken So back to the book. It speaks about travel, observations, anatomy, philosophy all mingled with main plots and unrelated subplots. At the end of the reading it all comes together like a jigsaw puzzle forming a bigger picture. One of the ideas is about how life is no less different than this. All of us living our own little stories, fighting our battles, crying, laughing, our subtle actions having enor...

Greetings readers! Its been forever since the last one. The reason could be perhaps the fact that out of all the fleeting thoughts nothing seemed to stay at one place. However something was bugging me for quite a lot of time so I've decided to flush it out. Like all professional texts that start with a cool quote from someone 'famous' I too have got something from the internet  Our dead are never dead to us, until we have forgotten them. -George Eliot Well yes now you know what I'm going to rant about today as the title suggested. Just a disclaimer dear reader, all what follows are just my own opinion. I can only imagine what everyone has gone through and everyone has got their own opinions and degrees of feelings on this. Anyways, lets cut to the chase shall we? Death is something I can never truly understand, perhaps no one could. It joins hands with time and comes straight at you like a runaway train and is as strange as life is. I happened to pull myself together to...

             Very recently I came across the concept of 'the uncanny  valley'. Reader beware!  For it is no joke, although I am trying very much trying to convince myself otherwise. The idea in theory talks about  relation between an object's degree of resemblance to a human being and the emotional response to the object. (hi five Wikipedia) In short we find a certain objects 'cute'  and a few objects 'unsettling' no thanks to the great resemblance it has with humans. Here's a picture I stole from the internet.     This kid is from the move "The Polar Express". Looks harmless right? Or does he? The longer you stare at the image it might seem unsettling. Okay maybe this seems easy. A similar feeling of uneasiness, perhaps the more profound one is visible in police sketches. The sketches appear perhaps more threatening than the accused himself. Here's another example from Reddit.      Yes it is just a pic...

It was a first, travelling alone and all. Perhaps the statement would not be fair to myself. I have travelled to my school, to nearby places in my town. Travel seems be a strong word. Our ancestors fought storms to 'travel' across the ocean, they traversed snowy mountains, they 'travelled' miles across the desert, leagues into the sea. To say I travelled to the museum today might bring a frown to their faces. It took me no more than an hour to get there. I love museums, one thing about them would be how they manage to excite both the child and the adult in us. It was a much needed change of air that I needed. Perhaps I was lucky i was able to find happiness. Travelling alone scares me. Here I am, legally an adult whining about how unsafe I feel  in public. I am afraid, it is the people that scares me. The fear of hearing a voice calling your  name from behind. Me from 2 years ago would have had a different story altogether. Sometimes he would even proudly say I have tra...