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The ‘whatever’ of a desperate writer

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Could have called these musings but the profound use of the verb off-late has resulted in it not being just a thought but a “celebrity” off-late. Also the depths to be reached have transformed into soaring heights.
I don’t really know what I mean there I just hope I end up reflecting what I want to.
Wishing those reflections are intelligible by me too. For I assume that more often than not people see beyond what I had foreseen.
All of these put together form something’s that I have no words for. Though I know these something’s form those things that call themselves the “whatever”.
Hence, this attempt begins from the conclusion, beginning from that which is a CULMINATION, a CEASING. The process of emptying into one, leads to ‘the rest’ becoming ‘a whole’. This is all but obvious and nothing worth a mention. The fact, though, that it has been stated, stated again no different shows no reason but ‘DESPERATION’, the Desperation to talk, to be heard, to reach out and know a lot.

So that there may come a time when that lot can be penned down. The writing would then probably not be a trifle but the ‘Muse of an Author’.
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