Incense, Incest, Incendiary

The use of language is to communicate, both tangible and intangible. One's proficiency in a language isn't really tested unless he is able to communicate the intangible. Though it's all about practice and with practice there comes the ability to express things that many people can't really express about the world and what they feel and experience. I have been working on making intangible intelligible and sooner or later, given I'm alive I'll be able to make sense of it and would be able to express in my writing. It would take some time though and till then I'll keep doing the small writing projects that I do. I had read somewhere that a writer's job is to say what others think and don't dare to say. Frankly I don't know what a writer's job is. In this country, it is definitely propaganda, but other than that I don't really know what a writer's job is. I don't consider myself a writer, but I write as a hobby, and I have always thought that it is a good hobby. Writing kind of saved my life too, at first I thought that it doesn't matter, and if you are an idealistic person it actually doesn't, but when and if you get an idea of the kind of scum that are not only alive but thriving on expense of good people, you will choose to remain alive whatever the cost it may entail. Idealism and altruism has its costs but I recommend every good person must practice it, because nothing exposes the world better. You practice idealism and altruism for twenty three years of your life, and the actual reality of the world starts pole dancing in front of you. I mean it may not even be the world but only this country. So, my recommendation is to practice altruism and idealism at least till your mid twenties. I had my ideals and I practiced humility, altruism and used sublimation as a defence mechanism. Turns out the things I was using sublimation as a defence mechanism for weren't even mine to begin with. Surprise surprise! And ultimately I realised that professors, scientists, doctors, artists, and every other "respectable" and intellectual profession there is, have their minds accessible and in control of literal village rapists. I mean this is the arrangement of my home region of Purvanchal, I don't know about other regions. Good defence mechanisms are necessary. I do not like to hurt or cause pain to other people, and thus my defences were chosen accordingly, and thankfully they gave me the biggest gift that one can get in life, the clarity about political reality of this country, and probably the world. Whatever I saw wasn't really cool, but the crux of the matter is earn money, eat good, sleep well and have fun, and that's all the crux is. There is no higher purpose out there. There was once probably, and I would suppose, in the 1920s but not anymore. I mean either Orwell or Huxley were right or they were hallucinating, and I have, in a very intangible manner, experienced and proven, at least to myself, that they were not hallucinating. The timeline is 1930s. Is it God's will? I don't know. If it is then this entity is surely not my God, though I know that it's not God at all. And from what I have seen, the possibility of existence of God is nil from the very fact that he allowed this setup to be made and exist in the first place. People will experience it, and I'm just writing so that people can correlate and realise that it's not worth dying for anything no matter how hard times get, unless of course there are no options left, definition of which is different for everyone. I, in the meantime, am marinating the intangible so that it can become tangible.