How could I go back to trusting my words? My thoughts were all traveling with no definite destinations these days. There are days when I wanted to grab hold of them (although I’m sure requires utmost effort) and put them into writing. But oftentimes, I just let them glide through my brain to avoid overthinking. Both are tormenting one way or another. And all these magnified in every waking hour of my life, being stuck in the four corners of my chaotic room. It could well be a metaphor for my thoughts. No, actually to say that my room is organized is rather an understatement in comparison.
What do I really want to become, I found myself finally recognizing the question I’ve been dodging for so long. Not because I’m afraid of the answer but because I don’t have one. I have dramatically convinced myself to not dwell on this matter until I could define a bold response. Yet staying in my cave for almost 20 hours a day for the past weeks didn’t contribute to my trying-hard-to-be-optimistic approach. On the contrary, it has been adding weight to the subject while expecting some empty rebuttals from me, as if the thought itself wasn’t enough to suppress my mind.
Though, I must say that I no longer have resorted to some crying-for-nothing scenarios. Still, the paranoia hasn’t diminished over the past months. I thought of pursuing a career in music but ended laughing at myself instead. No, let’s keep that talent hidden, shall we? No standards, no disappointments. Just fun. That seemed to be a comforting idea, yes. I’ll stick to that.
Over and over, I tried talking some sense into me every time a distressing matter sprouts. But it’s only just a matter of time when we must all face that thing we’ve feared most.
And I’m still stuck here discovering things I am capable of doing and emotions I am capable of handling. Well, life goes on.
- 2015 entry
(Image from this site.)
0 Comments