The problem of every highly imaginative creative thinker is they either find things too boring, or too inspiring.
To be within the company of an unimaginative thinker is a big turn off for them. The natural silence of the world around them can be musing, giving out more information about them than the world around. We stumbled upon this really short nice piece which we thought is worth sharing. For it not only answers what is missing around us, but also announces that most creative minds who are often regarded as people who like their own company more than the company of others are in reality, those who are ‘one’ with their surroundings. So who do these intense, fickle minded creatives find boring? Bijaya’s short story has the answer.
On a Sunday morning, my friend and I went for a walk.
The street was still lonely and dim because it was 6 am and the sun hadn’t kissed the horizon completely.
As we walked, with every step a miniscule of breeze would come touch me and leave. As if teasing me at my waist where all the fat hung, assuring me that I need to jog and this walk will not do me much.
The pebbles grunted under my feet as if scared and terrorized when I was about to step on them, and then all shattered and dead when I put all my weight on them. I crushed them a little more because crushing needs some twisting of ankles and seemed like a good exercise.
There were a few good men smoking at a corner near a stall, sipping tea and talking about unimportant things. They smiled and frowned alternatively like their emotions were like swinging pendulums, and looked like they could burst into a stormy fight any moment.
Where am I walking to?
Where does this road start and stop?
Or is it like the lives of civilians? Half constructed, half ruined and very interconnected.
I laughed at the chirping of the birds who looked so happy to be free that they could touch the sky every moment and come and bite fruits after it here on earth.
It was beautiful. Everything around me.
And slowly when I realized I had to return, the sun rolled its light infront of me like golden sand, welcoming me opening its arms.
Come over. Come into this.
We are always open
I turned and looked at my friend who was busy typing on her phone and urged me to leave fast.
I didn’t want to. I was enjoying. She was bored.
And I felt one would be interesting for one’s own self only if they can only see figures and shapes in the otherwise boring clouds.
What makes a person boring?
1. Lack of observation
2. Lack of imagination
3. Lack of curiosity
I never lost weight with those walks but I turned a poet.
Now I sit at my table, writing random things and stuffing my mouth with junk.
And she is still on her phone.
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Sourced from Quora
