There is this strong urge to procrastinate, as I have done the past months with this wee-little blog of mine. BUT, I am trying, really, to be better at this so I decided to procrastinate later and just type away.
To be honest I haven’t had the slightest idea of what I am to write but then sometimes letting thoughts flow through your fingertips is the way to go. I am sitting in front of my desk trying to relax while sipping my chamomile tea (super delicious by the way) and hoping that sleep will visit me soon. I have had quite the busy life these past few months with all the studies, career, friendships, love (?), and family shenanigans I had to attend to. It’s probably the lamest excuse for virtually neglecting this wonderful thing but then I guess I started to realize I am an emotional writer, like how I am an emotional reader. I write when I feel like it. And now, I do.
Silence. How do you define it? How do you explain something as simple yet complex? How do you explain something so broad yet relative? I have always been the talkative girl, but I know there is silence in my babble. I talk a lot, but I don’t say a lot, in fact, I may not say anything at all. Maybe it’s all perspective. I was reading a blog post about writing in silence. People may contradict, but there is something about silence that makes me associate it with peace. Now I know that there are different kinds of silence, from peace to silent rage hurling like a whirlwind destroying he who harbors it for long. However, the intense emotion that comes both in contentment and fury stirs the heart and fuels the mind. What would books be like without such emotion, or inspiration?
People write to express, and that, I think is why words were given to us. And in writing I find peace among other things. That brief moment after having poured out every last bit of happiness or hatred or hope or desire is precious. That moment when you realize you have nothing else to do but look at your soul written as words. It doesn’t matter what you have written, what matters is that you did.
I honestly don’t know if I have made the tiniest bit of sense. But I hope that you who are reading this right now may find it genuine.