So, I've always been vague, beaten around the bush and sometimes to the extent that I end up running around in circles without any recollection of why am doing so in the first place. I am not referring to my thought process or actual physical activity but this blog. I write in third person, use the closest I can get to poetry to simply express that which I cannot or actually never will otherwise.
But I've been doing a lot of thinking and I think a post like this is long overdue. No, I am not going to give an honest description of my day or write about hurtful incidents that leave me a little more than sour. I would like to write about all those things, in fact I can write volumes on those, but not here, not now. This, right here, is where I let go. But subtly, indirectly so I can still live in the cocoon I pride in having built around myself. This right here, is where I mask my thoughts and more importantly my feelings and wrap them like Christmas gifts and put them up for display. It's safe that way.
The strange thing is, it relieves me. It takes this burden off my shoulders- this burden I seem to carry around all the time. I realize, I like to keep the anger within me, I protect the hurt, the sadness, build a wall around it. It helps me write. Or actually, I consider writing to be the best means of expression. No, I do not address myself as a writer, far from it in fact. But, I like this random scribbling. It eases things and I can actually sense my shoulders broaden out and relieve themselves off burden and backlogs.
Backlogs can be scary things. They are like inventories, you really never meant to maintain, but somehow before you know it, they appear before you and you realize they had been saving up all the while you thought you had 'forgiven and forgotten'.
The irony is, I earn my living out of 'communication'. I've been told my skills in that area are pretty much what will get me through life. But when it comes to really expressing what I am feeling, I draw a complete blank. I can feel myself choke and somehow it just does not get out of me. \
So I hold it back in, smile, turn around and walk away. And once I have walked aimlessly for a long time, I begin to write...