Age of Abridged

So now when my Blog ranks are slipping to all time low and my full interest from the blog has been hijacked by the Twitter-o-mania (twitter.com/ashu81 ) I have realized one fact. The art of long posts have somewhere been lost against the ease of concise it in land of 140.

So from now on in an desperate attempt to keep my first love alive will just update it in the smaller tit bits. Easy for the writer and easier for the reader :P. and am sure my friends would def be very happy who always complained that I drift and wander in the longer posts.

Poem i came across

This is the first line. This line is meaningless.
And this is the second line, in which you’re no longer yourself,
 

which means you aren’t the person from the first line,
and now you aren’t even who you were
 

in lines two and three, and four, and additionally 

in five. This poem is life, I do everything
to be myself in every line, so that every line
by some miracle bends back to me,

meanwhile you, whether you want to or not, 
must live this life and in the last line, as close to the end as possible,
 
make the grade, the subject of which will be you.
You’ll only survive if you admit that the poem spoke of God. 
The last line will come
however faster than thought.


by Tadeusz Dabrowski
from Agni, 2009
translation from Polish: Jennifer Carter-Zielińska