My attempts at fiction

ok so this one is up for opinion.I started with some fiction today and here's the first para i wrote.So please pore in your opinions and suggestions on wether i should continue or not ;p

She was old,very old. Old enough to have seen life pass her by and not remember it. On a cold winter evening she sat looking at the vast stretches of uninhabited land surrounding her. She was a prisoner of space, a slave of solitude. Even though the world around her had moved on she refused to be led by time because she wanted to be where she had always been.those 5 kms of cold dry land were everything to her. The place where she was born , the place where she wanted to die. The winds rushed past her wrinkled face as if reminding her of their cold existance and negating the warmth which any human being would feel in her presence. I walked the steps of that old monastary and saw her sitting on the bare ground with her eyes fixed on the nearby mountain as if deciphering the existance of god in its existance...

The professional GOD

Was life designed by a mathematician or an artist i ask myself as i start writing this post.Is there a pattern to what we do, is destiny the truth or another lie in the vast sea of deception. was it a mathematician who sat one day with his pen and paper and developed a system we all love to call life by following the rulebook called humanity. Or was it an artist who painted his canvass with different colors letting all of us to try to figure out our own lives,try to find a pattern in those assortments of colors and shades ,but in vain.

The creator as we love to call him loved the way he constructed the mathematical idea called life but then somehow he did not really like the end result. if we scrutinize our own lives we'll know how he felt after his so called "magnificent creation".Imagine yourself dealing with a problem all by yourself.carefully step by step analyzing the problem in your mind and come up with the solution but when its all over and a certain gate of your mind has been opened you might feel fascinated with yourself or you might not! so from what i make of it yes god did enjoy creating the world on the whole but he was satisfied with only a part of it and was stoic towards other imperfections or perfections in his work. the only reason that can explain this is that there is no reason.he just happened to like something more than the other.This is how the mathematical god thought about things.doing everything step by step.creating everything proportionally and with equal enthusiasm but then disliking one part more than the other without offering any explainations..just as mathematics does sometimes...


Lets think about the artist who gathered all land and oceans together from the tip of his paint brush.lets talk about god as an artist.now this guy didn't know what he was doing but somehow he just loved whatever it was.he went on for days and nights thoroughly enjoying the experience which surpassed all divinity but made him ironically human because it was pleasure that he was seeking and then he finally created something he could not himself recognize.it was nothing but a sea of perceptions. there were faces one could see in that painting.it was a million different expressions entrapped in one little piece of art called life.there was no form to it nor any purpose although one thing that couldn't be ignored was that the more closely a person looked into it the more complicated and sad it was and when observed from a calm distance it looked beautiful and peaceful.

So do we represent expressions of the most complex mathematical equation ever derived or the colors of a painting which refuses to identify itself...