Mindblown: a blog about philosophy.
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Writing Right Retreat
Noololyako chenni, noololyako the base voice of the singer was crooning. Asking his glamorous lady love, why doesn’t she spin? “ratiyillelo jaana ”she replies, that she needs a spinners wheel…the dialogue goes on in the nasal twang of the folk singers. Once upon a time these singers would never enter Durbar-e-khaas. But the song is…
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Ancestory Now Discontinued.
He thought leaving home ended inheritance. Ptah corrected him gently: you don’t escape ancestry, you reupholster it—then wonder why the furniture keeps judging you.
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Plot Died — Icons Survived.
Writer’s block wasn’t silence but overcrowding: perfected gods, frozen icons, hymns talking over one another, while the plot died quietly, without witnesses or mercy.
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February 10th Observed not Believed.
February 10th was declared important because no one could remember why, and remembering nothing together now passes for collective meaning.
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Plot Died ,Wool Survived.
Wool lay everywhere, words went missing, and God showed up uninvited—explaining that when vowels leave, meaning follows, and narratives die quietly mid-sentence.
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The Shadow Department
A human being, stripped of metaphysics and mercy, is a walking file: breath inside, shadow trailing behind, waiting for clearance that never comes.
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Meddling Gods and Missing Pictures.
Pictures refused to appear, words stumbled forward; Ptah grinned, meddling with creation, proving that absence can be louder than abundance, and silence sharper than speech.
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