Somewhere in the distance, where time and infinite time…and space and void-like space meet, there is a prize. Maybe, there’s a golden bird, or a beautiful musical note that trembles like mercury on the tip of one’s finger. There is a bush that maybe blooms with children’s laughter or a lake that’s dense with the colour of hibiscus. Maybe there, poetry lives in a tree-house architected by imagination. Somewhere in the distance, in a place I don’t know, there is a prize that today’s moments covet. That’s why they are rushing there like the wind. Leaving me behind. To be blown and scattered standing. Someday, they will return. Because these fragmented pieces will be the spot…the one where time and infinite time…and space and void-like space meet.
I love courtroom dramas. I love non-linear storytelling. I love thrillers. I love tender love stories that embellish such series of grit, grime, and blood. This series delivers on all counts, dips somewhat after a couple of seasons, gets uneven and predictable (when it is less courtroom and more drama) and then finishes strong. The series centers around Annalise Keating who is a fierce, black criminal lawyer who also teaches a class in criminal law (which she calls 'How to Get Away with Murder'). As a teaching methodology, she gets her class to weigh in on her live cases. Part of her strategy also involves picking a handful of promising students and have them work in her 'lab' where they get to help her in strenuous arguments and civil suits, etc. The plot thickens, a murder happens, people get involved, incriminated, incarcerated, and dead. I found a couple of characters in this cast to be really unlikeable - Michaela, Laurel, and Bonnie. After the first couple of se
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thank you!
Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;
Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd,
Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone:
So wonderful is the notion that one just gets drowned in the beauty of the moment to come or even not to come but really dear to the heart.
The point where things become unimportant and unrealistic and only the feel remains, after all, isn’t it all about ‘just feeling’.