I find peace when I'm confused

And I find hope when I'm let down

But not in me...

...in YoU - *Switchfoot*

It was always a tragedy for me; that poets, in particular, and writers, in general, were often poverty-stricken, or street-unwise or highly miserable in one way or another (if you must insist on the rich and well to do, Oscar Wilde.)

The most sensitive creatures with the most worthed thoughts were subject to tears all the way. Always.

But in tears had I always produced my greatest works. And so had they. In tears had my work most touched me, came out most eloquently; maybe in happiness all of us can enjoy any sort of happiness offered but it is when we read a tale of misery that we feel like we have been through this. It is in tears that the heart is set free, it shouts, it screams, it paints expression. It represents me?

Yet those who have read Tess of the Du'bervilles have never been through the experience and those who have experienced such fate never get a chance to read it.

Then in pain do we find our heart touched the most. Not regular mundane pain from chores and duties.

Pain as in destiny pain, touching pain. A whole life marred by pain. Then pain must be the friend that takes me higher, higher than a bottle or pill, higher than a 'real' man's will.

In all this what is even more beautiful is: i wonder if writers ever feel it: when one has finished a piece of prose or poetry or some random paint which comes together to make a poem or write up or painting or sculpture or pottery or a musical tune, one shudders when one thinks, where did it all come from...

since I am one of those who don't plan before writing and something just designs up(even those who plan, not everything happens as they deigned and the turn, the spontaneous flow is unplanned)... where did it all come from?

Does HE express HIS beauty of thoughts through a medium of me when we say, 'amad ho rahi he'? I know I hadn't thought this way. I know that I got so high, so bursting with feelings that it just rushed out and arranged this way. What dimension did it all come from... Magic is the world of intangibles!