*writing again ages later*
I am sitting in front of my computer looking for words to write. This is the first time in days that my mind is as blank as the screen in front of me. Lately, whenever I sat down to write words from all the different parts of my brain started screaming at me wanting to be let out. Today I ask them to give me some time alone, some time when I can listen to the clatter of my keyboards as I type furiously before the thoughts come knocking again.
The bad thing about the silence is that I do not know what I should mention now and then I think why I should I be writing something in the first place: a problem that I have been living with for the past 6 months.
I want to put across a point but not in a half-hearted attempt. I want to write for myself but not something stupid and inconsequential.
I am entangled in the definitions of things. I want to break free and no one is stopping me. I can go and hide under my blanket and pour my heart out onto a paper but there is something that says stop, no you cannot do it you should not do it. It sounds stupid to think that someone’s mind is conflicted over something as simple as expressing. Someone told me that there is nothing wrong or right about comfortable writing, it is like comfortable clothing different people find different things comfortable. I worry whether I am stopping myself because others will judge me or is it my own scrutiny stopping me.
My stream of thoughts breaks free from the temporary barrier bringing the commotion back and I am left sitting in front of my computer looking for words to write…