I've been gone for a very long time. I had stopped
expressing thoughts, because for a while, I thought I can do everything with my
body, not just my thoughts. I have forgotten about the power of the word. I
have been feisty, hungry, and greedy. Lust took its toll on me which rendered
me dull. I've been consumed with the wrong fire, mistaken it for passion.
I used to write. My thoughts, be it random, jolly, sensual
or taboo. No barriers holding you. Let your mind float away. Years, I've tried
doing it again, but I am a loss for words. But I know, I will. I will let
myself float again. Why? Frustration. Frustrated that I can’t even say the
words I want to say. Maybe scared. Maybe worried. Worried scared of what consequences
I might face.
You have to find some inspiration. Yes, I am inspired, but
frustrated at the same time. I am too scared that I am too inspired. Worried.
And now, I am getting even more frustrated just because I cannot express this
the way I wanted to. No words coming out, no thoughts pouring. I am stuck. I
can feel it. Inside, I am weeping. Had I been so broken which made me the way I
am today? Little by little, I am healing, mending. I am not saying that what I
have right now isn't helping me, but helping is not the term, rather, completed
me. Empty but filled, ironic isn't it? But why frustrated? It’s this grinding
feeling, that you want to pour everything out, tell how you feel, but too
scared to get rejected. Is it too early? Might end up things prematurely.
I. Cannot. Read. Minds.
Rather, a hard one to read, really. I cannot hear anything,
just, feeling. But I need words; assurance has always been something I can hold
on to. But yet, I cannot demand, I cannot ask. Again, because I am scared, this
makes me frustrated.
Still, a lot to say, but how can I? I can’t say it, but I’m
feeling it. This grinding feeling.
Until then.
