A dream within a dream

after many days ...I feel like writing today.
No explanations about what I want to do at one particular time,though I sought for one.But its hell boiling down here both in the sense of weather and one more under my skull.And you can consider this article as my stream of consciousness projection, due to the the things I came across in these weeks.
So here goes my thought link, I have this nick..... craziness for the dark rainy nights storms and lone dark places and attraction follows.I always try to describe myself how I feel at the times....I feel like I wont escape from it...I feel this is the last night and sun wont show again....I feel like like thirsty,in the pouring rain...I feel on the edge and lost...and still I like it.The places like Goghs starry nights....or may be the Friedrich s wanderer ...
These places have a mist,they don't want to bother,they hide many secrets, and they swore if you ever come in their way...still they are troubled...try to make solace with our emotions....and we offer them emotions ladded with Gothic horror, depression, illusions, hallucinations..or perhaps the surge of adrenaline.
I found these places in recent time...in some movies,some art,some music...and sometimes in myself.

are we? are we not...

They were falling back into familiarity,into common ground,into the dirty gray.Just ordinary humans in ordinary opaque boiled-egg light,without grace,without revelation,composite of contradictions,easy principles,arguing about what they half believed in or even what they didn't believe at all,desiring comfort as much as austerity,authenticity as much as playacting,desiring coziness of family as much as to abandon it forever.Cheese and chocolate they wanted,but also to kick all these bloody foreign things out.A wild daring love to bicycle them to sky,but also a rice and dal love blessed by unexciting feel of everyday,its surprises safely enmeshed in something solidly familiar like marrying the daughter or son of your father's best friend and grumbling about the cost of potatoes,the cost of onions.Every single contradiction history or opportunity might make available to them,every contradiction they were heir to,they desired.but only as much,of course,as they desired purity and lack of contradiction.
(extract from the inheritance of loss by Kiran Desai)

Where to start from.........

'Beginning', I always been fascinated by this word.No doubt it raises lot of questions....but it also provides with satisfaction that action has started(satisfaction may not always be measured in terms of good and evil).
in terms of refferences of word 'Begining',I like the following quotes,
1.everything that has Begining , has an end.(Matrix triology)
2.In my begining is my end.(T. S. Eliot)
All in above, the Beginning (if we consider the word as an entity) is followed by its nemesis 'End'.They are like just ancient couples,not complete with each other...always present with each other....but are negation of other implied.(i can not resist myself to put a metaphor of Batman and Joker ....but they do follow their respective egoes, So...).
And though we have terms for them ,we know very little about both of them.
But somewhere I believe they do not follow a circling.they have definite existance.