M.P. Sharma's Blog, page 14

Why I’m so grateful to WordPress …

I was first introduced to this fascinating forum about 7 months ago when I finally decided to get off my derriere and start connecting with other likeminded (and some not so much) people out there tantalisingly housed within the deep, dark crevices of the blogging sector of the World Wide Web.

I didn’t expect to become entangled in the mysterious web of intrigue, deceit, fantasy, fiction, fact, crime, passion and supernatural imprisonments that I unknowingly crawled into, but similar to a junkie, I am not the least bit regretful that I did.

I’m going to be 100% honest – I first got onto blogging as a mundane effort to carry out the one aspect of novel writing I hate the most. Yes, you heard me correctly, even slightly more than editing. I know, what is wrong with me? Advertising – I can’t stand it, in fact I detest it with such a vengeance, I even considered writing a book on the inhumane concept but then I thought about how I’d have to advertise it and dropped the idea faster than I would a hot potato because even that’s more useful. At least I can submerge a hot potato in butter and devour it along with a few potentially required arteries, but that’s another story you would rather be spared from. Trust me.

WordPress however, has turned into so much more than a useful marketing tool for writers, it’s infected me to the creative core of my soul by giving me the greatest gift any potential author could ever receive and that’s contact with the amazing talent pool, no scratch that, ocean of others who love the written word as much as I do, if not more. If I ever harboured any unsupported delusions of grandeur of how brilliant a writer I was before I embarked on this journey of shameless self-promotion, I certainly don’t anymore. No, I have been set straight, given a cold, tight slap across my cheek on how much I still have to learn if I ever dream, hope, clamber to be half as good as some of the writer’s I have come across in the WordPress community.

Alongside WordPress came Twitter & Facebook, other notorious examples of novel marketing and as I scampered across my path into the writing communities of these and other various social medias, I came to realise just how talented others were out there.

Does this depress me? Absolutely not, because I find that those I connect with are often so graciously willing to impart their knowledge and skills with me and help me in my personal battle towards self-improvement, I feel humbled and honoured simultaneously and instantly.

So, though I don’t say this nearly as often as I truly should, thank you to everyone I have connected with so far and I look forward to cementing and forging new relationships as I travel this path of atrociously torturous advertising for what I hope to be, at least slightly above mediocrely run of the mill.

If I told you that you could get something that would mak...

If I told you that you could get something that would make you feel amazing about yourself, inspire you to be the best you can be, is likely to make all your aspirations, dreams and goals true, will make you an absolute joy to be around, will attract everything and everyone brilliant to you and best of all - is FREE of charge, you’d jump at it, right?

What if I just chucked in another perk on top of it all because I’m in a good mood? You don’t even have to go anywhere to get it because you already have the key to opening that treasure chest?

Positivity! We all have it, all it takes is a subtle effort to make a mind change every second, every moment, every day and you are on your way to success. Just imagine all the potentials. We as a species know so little about the brain so the opportunities are limitless. Why not give it a try, it’s not like you’re going to lose anything by saying those two simple words – “I can”, “I will”, “I am”.

Work Safety for Dogs? Um, okay …

My sister and I were walking alongside our local lake the other day when we passed a panel van that does workplace safety for our wholesome canine folk.

Following a perplexed interlocked stare with one another, we started chatting about all the potential issues that could be raised and came up with the following message the average household pet must be illuminated with in this very pertinent and naturally much needed discussion:

1. Never, I repeat NEVER try and grab your tail with your razor sharps. No matter how much you believe you have a stalker, once you capture the bane of your existence it is going to be much more painful than if you leave your ardent follower alone. Trust me.

2. You must walk on all fours at all times. Copying your stupid human “Master” is going to cause severe injuries and perhaps get you killed. Just look at the tripping epidemics your human constantly lives through while taking you on your daily walk (or maybe that’s just me).

3. The concept of stranger danger always seems to be lost on you. Just because that other mortal is carrying a Big Mac with them and is promising you half of it if you jump into their car, doesn’t mean it’s the right thing to do. Okay, who am I kidding, maybe it does. Look, let’s compromise. If it’s a package deal with fries and a Coke, ditch your human as fast as you can. They don’t deserve you.

Any more you’d like to add to the list? I’m thinking of compiling a dossier to send the company’s way. Thanks!

Apparently I’ve been channelling Snow White on my walks l...

Apparently I’ve been channelling Snow White on my walks lately. I swear, every time I step out my door, there is a hoard of wildlife following my every move, not that I’m complaining – unless it’s crocodiles, poisonous spiders and/or venomous snakes.

I had a wild rabbit, Cockatoo, neighbourhood cat, Galah, and various other friendlies watching and mimicking my every move on Friday during my afternoon stroll. There were even some suspicious garden gnomes nicknamed the Seven Dwarfs eyebrow raising-ly closer than usual and I didn’t even have to sing. I know right, bizarre.

Happy Monday everyone!!! :)

We’re Different & Proud of it!

Apparently loads of immigrants the world over have been having a hard time explaining their differences or what we like to commonly refer to as our “uniqueness” and what originals term as our “whacky inability to fit in syndrome”.

I know, ours is so much catchier :P

Either that, or the constant clicking on my video link is a subtle warning for impending death threats coming my way.

Phew, thank the good Lord for virtual reality sometimes, death threats are so much less permanent nowadays.

Immigrants Versus Originals …

So, I’m baaacccckkkk … on YouTube that is. No, no, it was me posting yesterday after my little vacation so you don’t have to worry, there still is ONLY one of me. I know, I am sure you wish there were more. Shush, just let me live in my fantasy world, okay?

Anyway, here it is, my rant on why Immigrants (that’s me by the way) are sooooooo very different from Originals (too many to name here, but you know who you are :P ).

Please make sure to Like and Share (if you’re so inclined) unless you’re that one dude who hit the Dislike button on my last video – I have one word, WTF?! Well, that’s not really a word but whatever. Go ahead and dislike if you wish, I mean I am pro free speech already! For the rest of you though, please feel free to spread the word thin, like as stretched as the cloth on Nicki Minaj’s bikini bottom across her very ahem, noticeable derriere – I won’t complain, I swear.

For those of you wanting to see this on YouTube, please click here!

Anyway, enjoy!!! :)

Happy Wednesday my Adorable Sweets …Apologies for the sl...

Happy Wednesday my Adorable Sweets …

Apologies for the slight sabbatical, if you’ve even noticed. If you haven’t, please just consider this as another one of those sanity defying posts you have come to expect (or fear – whichever you prefer!) from me.

Turns out smashing your alarm clock into oblivion on a Friday can have devastating effects, like not waking you up for 48 hours. Damn little bugger, sure knows how to hold a grudge, doesn’t it? What’s that all about anyway?

I’ve been dumped …

…Well I’m the one who did the dumping officially but apparently it’s unladylike to say so. In fact I quit on this annoying dude every Friday without fail and the rejoicing experienced at getting rid of him never ever diminishes.

I guess I should tell you all about him now, he’s my vicious alarm clock. I wake up early every Friday morning with a gleeful expression plastered across my dial as I chuck the little devil into the oblivion of my bottom draw after hurling the insanely small knobbly thingy shut tight with my forefinger as it assaults my poor, unsuspecting eardrums.

“Sayonara mate and for heaven’s sake just DON’T come back. It’s over, comprehende?”

Have a lovely weekend my lovelies :)

Why Teachers deserve more …

Teachers are singlehandedly the most important people you are ever going to come into contact with outside of your immediate family and in some cases, even more pertinent in your journey throughout life.

I’m not kidding or overstating this in any way at all (even though I am on occasion known to be a tiny bit overdramatic!). True, my mother is in education so I may be a little biased but I do truly believe that teachers shape your life, and most imperatively, your attitude.

I think you’d be hard pressed to find anyone who doesn’t have a “teacher” story to tell. Unfortunately though, not all the teacher tales are good ones. I have a friend who actually dropped out of school at the age of sixteen because his teacher had such a profoundly negative effect on him he could simply no longer take the torture of having to go and see her face for a whole two more years.

In hindsight, I often wonder if he thinks back to his decision and ponders on how his life could have been different had he soldiered on for two more years. I mean, what’s two years in comparison to an entire lifetime? For adults – nothing. For a teenager being mentally bludgeoned five days a week, simply put – the end.

I was one of the lucky ones. I was gifted with a teacher comprised with the best quality any educator could ever possibly have and that’s inspiration. My art teacher, Mr John Philippides didn’t just teach me art, he taught me attitude. Best of all, Mr. Philippides taught me about life, in an age where most of us struggle between right and wrong, about going against the grain because it’s the right thing to do, about the “mark” we want to leave on the planet. Some of you would know that I didn’t exactly have an easy time throughout school. I was bullied continuously and being a fair bit younger than my classmates didn’t help, what with having a “delayed” reaction to anything that actually mattered, namely leaving all the “uncool things’ behind, like my love for Disney characters (which has never left by the way. Just in case you’re wondering).

Mr. Philippides would often tell me I’d forget about him once I left school and I would vehemently deny the atrocious accusation, he didn’t believe me and I’d just like to say, I have proven you wrong Mr. Philippides!

I often think about my art teacher and his many, innumerable gifts that he has partaken with me along the way. Though he most likely will never know, his words of wisdom continue to stroll alongside me throughout my many obstacles, turns and twists and like him; they inspire me to be the best I can.

Though I always knew of his immense talent, my youthful naivety blinded me to the truly great artist he was and the amazing genius the rest of the World had also been fortunate enough to glimpse.

My childhood “greed” I guess (for the lack of a better word) almost always believed that he was simply put on this planet to teach me art! :D However, I was wrong, and now I see the profound effect my art teacher has had on many lives outside of mine, but he was still and always will be my teacher first!

Thank you Mr. Philippides for teaching me about life, your enamoured lessons are ones that I am positive I will take with me across lifetimes because yours are ones that touched my soul, not just my brain.

I need a Fix for my “fix”

I’m broken. I’m sure of it. It can be the only explanation for putting myself through the torturous ordeal of working out on a daily basis.

Apparently, pesky little endorphins are to blame, those minute satanic blips in my body that decided to pop out of nowhere, without any warning or requests for permissions to be present that I have unknowingly become addicted to.

So will someone please provide me with a fix for my fix? Of all the vices, who knew I would choose the treadmill for my drug of choice? That’s just lame -_-