Slow death of greatness

It was once said to me, "A great man decays before dying."

I agreed then and I agree now. Greatness decays, phases out. From sunlight to starlight...It doesn't go in a flash. But the path it takes on it's fall is not the same as to the top. If it was, that would be a slight consolation. But it's not. And when this tower falls, one sees only dust. Everywhere...and everything is engulfed in it. Dust which drowns and chokes whoever is near. The shroud covers not only the dead but those who mourn. And when it settles, what lies there are the broken pieces, the remains of glory. People occupied in the memory of glory, not of the dead lying before them. The dead who achieved glory...and who decayed. And suffered alone as he witnessed what was being lost. He suffers because no one understands more than him as it was he who was Great. He suffers as he watches his fall from Nobility to commonplace, Pride to mere inertial superbia and then to no honour at all. He watches himself as he goes through this painful spiral from Inspiration to expiration. No one's suffering can be equal to his as he watches his Greatness flat-lining.

Case of an artist

An artist is constantly in a sort of duel with his own creation. Both seem to be engaged in a struggle to shape each other's image. Either he can turn it into a beautiful masterpiece or it can make him just another average painter. I feel like an artist all the time. An artist stuck at a point where he knows something is not right but can't figure just what. Like a writer lacking a right word. The impasse lingers on.

Damn road to perfection!

It's been a while I took to it. The road to perfection is slippery and dodgy to say the least. It tends to throw me off track by offering beautiful and tempting exits. And of course, the threats. It puts ideas in my mind and words in my mouth. Both encouraging and discouraging. That's why I find myself talking to myself a lot. The road gives you experiences and with experiences you grow up and old. It tells me experiences are precious and that they make me wise. And that we should listen to the "wise". I tell it I'm experienced and wise enough to see the trap. I never tell myself I am a grown up and never let others tell me I'm not. For first is a mistake and second is a mockery. Both impediments to Perfection. First makes you complacent, second makes you irrelevant. For first puts a full stop to your growth, second puts a question mark whereas all I need and want is Space. It's the little mindgames the road and I play with each other. Sometime I take a detour to fool around and sometimes it plays pranks on me and in doing so it sometimes gets serious and I find myself falling flat on ground, all wounded and bruised. That's what it seems to be doing now...But as the challenges and tests keep getting tougher, the resolve sometimes seems to be getting thinner. Can't afford it.