Sunday, 17 July 2016

I'm sometimes a master of spreading negativity. I have my own whimsical views born of something I don't understand, and I take these with the full intention of trying to make you believe them. Why? If you're happy because you believe in something that gives you the strength to make it through the day,  who am I to try and sap that light out of you?

Maybe it's I who needs to listen to you and not the other way around.

Sunday, 3 July 2016

Why do you feel good?

I'm talking about you, Procrastination, you literal horse with wings that distracts my attention every time I try to find the moon. My duck that watches me and intensifies my anatidaephobia.
Seriously, if you didn't feel good, I probably wouldn't always be chasing you and trying to find out what you feel like, would I?
Maybe someday I'll learn the truth about you. Someday…

Monday, 6 June 2016

My treatment for writer's block

Ever since I was a child and discovered my ability to write, I took advantage of every opportunity I could to put my inner world on paper. I had such a vivid imagination, that I found the worlds I could create within my own mind even more fascinating than the real world. I would create fantastical stories in my mind, and I would draw them when possible, but when I discovered that I could narrate an entire story right from my heart, it ignited a blazing inferno of desire within me.

For some reason, in my teen years, my writing sort of came to a halt. I'm not sure why, but I felt like everything I wrote down wasn't good enough, To put it simply that's about the whole truth. Anyone else who I allowed to see my writing (which they were very few) thought the craft I put out was amazing. I, however never saw it that way. I always felt like something was missing, and that some feeling within myself wasn't being let out properly.

A lot of people would call this writer's block. Maybe it is. Maybe it isn't. I suppose whatever I was feeling does fit the definition of writer's block, but I feel the term "writer's block" feels like wood in my mouth as the words come out. It seems so dry and superficial, like it doesn't articulate any actual valuable details as to why I couldn't write. It just states the obvious.

But thinking back on it now, it goes way beyond writing. There has been many times where I've held off from expressing myself because I didn't think it was very good. With drawing and painting for example, I didn't think my work was all that good, so as a result I rarely drew or painted.

And looking back on other aspects of my personality, I see that I've been very self-critical, for seemingly no good reason. It's such an irrational state of being. I could have put out the most amazing masterpiece, and I still wouldn't think it's any good. Why? Why did I feel that way? I'm hard on myself for seemingly no reason, and while it leads me to have high standards at some times, it can also be very damaging.

As I result, I'm working to undo that self-critical nature I have of myself. Rather than staying in the dark trying to make something that I think is worthy, my form of therapy is to put myself out there and just let everyone's eyes see it for their self. I guess you can say this post is the very start of that.

Tuesday, 19 April 2016

Special connections

There's a special kind of connection you have with a person when you have no idea who they are, have never met them before, and know nothing about them, but you see their photo on Whatsapp as they are listed as your contact.
Of course, the number belongs to that friend you barely talk to anymore, that love interest you went out with once and hoped the two of you would turn into something special but never did, or your sibling as the two of you laugh about how that person isn't you.
But still, this person has a unique connection with you that neither of you can explain, and probably never will be able to, but you can feel its significance nonetheless.