The Pressured Cooker

I had assumed that this web-place was a printed version of my thoughts; a sort 'gasket-release' system which allows the steam to go out, taking off the pressure from the cluttered confines of my brain. To think of it, the brain is much like a pressure cooker, wherein thoughts move around rapidly in random disorder. Often, while cooking, when the steam lets off, there is a wonderful aroma of the food cooked inside it. Alternatively, if the vegetable/pulse is not of the liking it can give a distasteful smell. After reading the posts, I realise that the inners of my brain were not exactly the stuff that gourmets would savor with delight.

There is too much whine and crib in the posts. There is too much complaint. There is too much grumble. It is not right, and thank God, not many people are reading it. Actually, only one very nice lady is, if I am not mistaken. I wonder what she makes out to be. If I were to read a blog/space/page which had this much of negativity, I would have immediately assumed a high moralistic ground and shaken off the man and asked him to get real!

But, the fact is that all this is, well...a fact! Life is not too good. It continues. Listlessly. Unceremoniously.

I wonder what I am searching for, in the first instance. I wonder what I had started to cook, and what a burnt dish I have become.