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Writer's Block

 



Writer’s block


I have a few incomplete, unfinished , distributed documents of various topics that I have been writing over months and today is the day I am moving past my writer’s block. (Welcome back, you!) It’s been days since I wrote something. I usually write things that make me sad (I got to find a better word than ‘sad’ ), because I feel this is my safe space (even when I know people read this). Well, this blog is not my safe place; the time, the moment that I am writing this or the stretch of days I have been writing bits and pieces of this is my safe place. Don’t you find it quite poetic ? My safe place being time that will not come back , but leaving a mark (scar) to prove that it existed?

I have so much to say and yet so little to tell. ‘It is easy’ you will say, ‘ just start ’. But I don’t want to start because I don’t have sentences that start the story ,I just have fillers. A series of incomplete conversations and jumping over things to process them faster, and boom, you reach a stage where I am .

So, I thought let me just put them together. Let me show you the fillers because I am still, yet to find the starting and ending. Just the way I typed them back then, with all the spaces I left for my characters and stuff. I hope you will love to know how my mind works.

 

8/10/2022  8:56 PM

When the fear of being fearful eats you up , what are you then? What part of you remains then? What part of you remains as the real legitimate you ? or What part of you is not fear?

What is that point called when you don’t even want to face the fear anymore, not because you are too afraid to (like if you choke on the same thing every day , I don’t think it would be a problem after a few; the fear of choking yourself to death dies when every time you survive it. probably after some time it rather becomes the highlight of your hour/ day/week/year, and that at one point you start craving it because you have forgotten other ways to validate it . You just know that the more you do the thing that chokes you , the more you will get used to it that eventually it won’t even be a fear to you. Rather negative example to support this statement but this is what practice makes a man perfect is for me apparently) ,  but you don’t want to face them because you feel they aren’t doing much harm to you in the real sense. Just bunch of insecurities, emotions, complexities, grudges, obnoxity , hate, love, faith, lies, truths, smiles, tears all bottled up, against the heart wrecking desire to let them go; let the bottle crack open for once; let them all fall out of place haphazardly so that this time when you pick then back up you throw away the awful ones to the place between our horizons.

 (But they are doing an irreparable damage to your core beliefs, and you are not doing anything to stop it  because others have made you doubt your core beliefs in their slightest remarks, jokes, or straightforward altercations on how dumb you are to dream about getting a sun when getting a moon is far easier )

 

You ever wished for something so pure and delicate and

 

 

Because the bottle I am holding all my blood in appeared as glass but with time I figured out its just plastic, a byproduct of my coping mechanism . You see, to be so fearful of one thing that you give it the power to turn you into a completely different thing; that it changes the fundamental traits of your personality and turn you into some person that you would have craved as a child but now hate the idea of it as an adult . But you see even if it’s plastic the baggage inside it is the same, would be same, will be same.

 

If I find a pretty flower I will pluck it, I’ll want it to be mine ; likewise, a pretty book , or book tabs or bookmarks or highlighters or pens or just bare blank pages or anything that is standing with all the other things, perfectly normal, until you decide it is not . I guess all my life (the barely complete 20 years of my inconsistent life) I have had the habit of being normal , different but normal.

 

 

3/11/2023 7:46 PM

Dear me ,

I want you to be my audience this time ; well u always are but usually I have things to say about some people, or about me or addressing someone/something but this time  I am addressing no one. Really.

So, tell me , how did a golden retriever makes friends with everyone , “ohh I wrote you a poem ” person went to a “ I mostly stay in my room” , have very few friends and still don’t like them, ”ohh I really don’t care” person?  Remember when I used to yell at them saying I just want to be alone and remember how relieved I was to be going to a place where no one knows the real me so I can pretend to be a higher self ; well, turns out I was kind of wrong .

This makes me realize that the thing they say “you know the importance of something when you no longer have it  ” may be true. But the thing “you don’t know how bad you are going to hate something you don’t have until you have it ” shit is really true. Not that I hate everything I have here. This place really gave me the one best thing of my life (no but).

 


Hi it’s me, the ‘HE’. No, I am not the last one; and no, I am not the one you think I am . This time I am the bundled effort of hers to put her hate through a third person view. Now you may think if it’s plural why didn’t she use ‘THEM’ instead ? well, for that she is a coward actually and it scares the shit out of her to try tackling humungous accusations she had planned for herself before writing this, because for her ‘them’ is everyone, all of the people who ever shared the same air with her. Well, then she could have used a ‘she’ right? No, strangely she has very few and very specific problematic ‘she’-s in her life so far but this time she’s miraculously very brave to be facing the few small trackable issues.

I love being alone. Purely because of how saddening it can be. Or like how maddening it can be ; how good it is to cry your heart out or how amazing it is to dance . Or how beautiful it is to keep jumping between these. But yet again, when I see some friends out on walks, when I see them amazing Instagram stories, when I see people laughing on their inside jokes, when I see

It makes me realize (again) that although I love being alone , I don’t want to.

I want a hug that would just make things alright for a minute , but I am tired of begging for it.

No, I haven’t actually verbally begged for a hug ever, but I just have longed It so much, begged myself so many times to  verbally start begging for it that I am sick of it now. But I want a hug.

I told you what I actually felt like and cried my heart out in front of you, people. That wasn’t very “bottles up everything and refuses to tell” of me.

 

5 outgoing calls;  she didn’t pick up. Called him, he said she’s with them , u know cakes and balloons. I am happy for her, for everyone , I just wish I didn’t call her. No, I don’t hate this or that , I hate being reminded I am on my own now, which on the contrary is something I always have believed. I am a living contradiction of thoughts and choices.

 


He’s beautiful. He’s the kind of person that makes you want to give up on your obstructing semi colons and really start swinging on full stops, you know. The kind of person that gives you the assurance that he will stay with you no matter what.

I hope I am not adding baggage to him. He looks tired of me sometimes, but I guess I should

 



I read something which reminded me of how ‘forever’ is not an accurate measure of how much ; forever is different for different people. Forever holds a different importance , serves as a very distinctive purpose in different people’s life.

For some it maybe the title of their chapter , like ‘ Forever Land ’ or for some it would be the

Last sentence of their story like “so forever was a lie.” Some would see it as the ray of hope, others would remember it in the times of gloom.

 

 

1/1/2022 9:13 PM 


To the universe-

 

Was this all what I have been manifesting silently, subconsciously?

“I don’t deserve love ”/ “I am not made for it”/ “I am not the perfect person they want me to be”/ “I am always sad.”

Was it?  Was it all what we say unintentionally that end up being true?

And were those signs?

“The spiral”/”I like being alone”/”I am okay with everything.”

I am not good at manifesting or affirming or all those astrological things but all I know is I at least deserve better than what I have been (over)thinking  from the past years. Maybe not magnificently best, but just a consistent good

 

 

12/12/2022  11:33 PM

 

I started this year with a resolution to never fall in love with anyone, and just like all the resolutions people usually take , this was also bound to go unnoticed . I knew that.

I hated touch ; I hated talking to people about how I

All this time I always thought that if two people disagree on something, then only one of them is right and I spent all my life and energy into being the one that was always right. Then, I started being the one who doesn’t care if they are right or not. I just wanted out of conversations, and I wanted out of group chats ; I wanted to sit alone with my

 

 

How you fell asleep twice while talking to me at night, only if I could see you falling asleep: )

How beautiful you look when you sleep , how curious you are about everything.

How peaceful it is

 



I don’t want to see you cry ; it breaks my heart . Sorry, I didn’t hold you that day or touched you. I was so,

 

 

11/26/2022  11:19 PM

                                                                                        

Maybe the reason it’s so hard to let go of you is because you were my first person . not just in cute romantic ways but in normal pathetic ways.

The first person who made me cry the hell out while arguing, the first person to make me feel happy about my birthday because I would expect you to make it special, the first person who ruined both of them too. The first person who made me realize how cold I can be , the first person to make me feel loved for. The fir

 

 

 

8/10/2022  8:02 PM

 

Two roads diverged in the yellow woods,

Again , I stand

no time in hand

but plenty; I am convinced

plenty of it, plenty of it

I must remind myself

Plenty of it , I chant.

Two roads submerged in the woods

The sound I planned all along lost in that day

Was scared more to explore the truth

And excited to stay

lied to

Lied by and

lied about

the reasons were my causes

and the cause was theses reasons somewhere well hid

between those roads

Cry? Try? Say goodbye?

Or struggle, sit and wave at them with a generous “HI”

 

. . .

So, this was it. It’s actually kind of cool I moved past ,my writers block by basically compiling all my previous blocks. I do that often. I make good out of bad. I make something out of nothing , just like my mother says : )

. . .

 

5/17/2023          11:11 PM

I always thought I was too intense and too naïve for people to handle me. Too much of so much and too little of what I should be. Fuel to the fire were my words that no matter how hard I tried to spew out , bounced back from walls and found their way back. But I am not. I am not too much. I am not too little. Why can’t I just be? Why can’t I always be in  rush ? Why can’t I be lazy sometimes? Why can’t my dreams be rare? What is the problem if they are too common? What if I don’t have any dreams? What if I have a lot of them ? What if ?

I wish, I want, I hope someone chooses you over and over again, like I do. Over and over again. Consistently, consciously; without second thoughts. Never second thoughts. Love and love. Over, over, again. Everyday. Every week; all months. Many years.



. . .






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