Uncertainty

There are no better friends than the small uncertainties of life that keep reminding you of the extremely fragile nature of human control on oneself.

When I started writing I thought I would do it everyday. Slowly the writings would accumulate to become the omnibus that I intended to write always.

After four postings I was silent. Life's apparent and emerging certainties had made the earlier intent much weaker. Where do we get the memory and the commitment to take along the intent with emerging opportunities(perceived) and compulsions.

I remember the early childhood commitment to Truth which I have given up somewhere during the journey because I felt the opportunities would not be tolerating the adherence to Truth.

Somewhere down the journey I also left the elegant commitment to straightforwardness.

I now do not perhaps remember all that I intended to do or not do. I do not even realize what I do as the acts and impacts become more incomprehensible.