Diaries: Echoes of my soul, Introspection, Soulful Musings

Writing- From A Place Of Pain.

Definitely not deliberately, but some of my best writing has found its roots in some kind of pain or angst. And as it might be evident, the majority of poetry in this very blog was written when my heart was totally shattered. I wonder why this happens?

It’s not that I have not found words in the moments of joy and love. In fact, I really developed as a writer, penning down some of my most emotional and coherent prose, full of soul and passion during that time of my life. Even noticeably impacting my academics (language subjects) rather positively. But that has been a very long time ago. I wonder why, again…

I must admit that I have always admired people who’ve take one form of negativity and channelized into something brilliant. Mostly, I have noticed these are artists and creators of one kind or an other. Videos, Poems, Art… Oh, how I wish sometimes when words evade me, specially in moments of torment that I could just take a pencil and/or some colours and create something beautiful on a piece of paper. Something sans words, yet something very telling of the state within. But alas, I’m not an artist of that sort. Yet.

This word ‘yet’ has a new found place in the dictionary of my life. Because, clichés like never-say-never have becomes words that truly resonate with me now. Besides, for the most part and when it comes to most (positive things) like learning, experiencing or trying something… It’s never too late I suppose. It is always possible to make it happen if you really, really want to…

So for now, I will let the questions just be questions and will close my very tired eyes, and rest my very tired shoulders for a while. Oh god, I have always loved nights!

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Diaries: Echoes of my soul

Questions and Obsessions

I have spent most of my Saturday obsessing about this blog. And, I am not exaggerating. I just wanted to find the ‘perfect’ theme before I started blogging again but nothing really seemed to click.

Anyway, so here I am back again. And, hopefully this time to stay.

I have been wanting to write since a long, long time now. Something. Anything. But I have failed to do so. What finally propelled me to even come this far was actually reading someone else’s blog post. Now, it is not that I don’t read at all anymore. But my ability to read has been suffering kind of similar to writing. It’s the state of mind. I guess. The state of a very pre-occupied mind, which has a lot on.

Coming back to the point… I can’t really pin point what exactly did the trick.

Was it simply the remainder of the time when I was really writing a lot here? But it’s not like I haven’t thought of it all this while.

Or was it the realisation that everything doesn’t have to be ‘perfect and perfectly structured’ to strike a chord. In the end, I suppose the best kind of writing is one that comes from the soul and touches another. And, in my case it was the sheer honesty of the blogs, I guess.

Well, whatever it is. I’m glad that I am back here again. Doing this right now. And hopefully, this time I will be able to take it to another level. In terms of perhaps… exposure. Maybe this time it won’t remain ‘anonymous’ or ‘anonim0us’ as I have been spelling it. 😛

Besides, it’s not like I haven’t had stuff to say. Just lacked that momentum to sit down and type. Just lack the momentum to sit down and channelize my thoughts into coherent strings of sentences… I guess, if I can keep at it. I can re-learn what I have somehow managed to un-learn.

A part of me wonders if I should ‘start again’. A fresh blog. Because this one has a lot of work that is connected to a lot of history. But there’s lot of good work here. Besides it seems so wrong to want to ‘hide’ things. For how can you truly write, if you are busy trying to ‘hide’ your thoughts and feelings?

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Diaries: Echoes of my soul, Introspection, Soulful Musings

Weird, Surreal Drifting

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It has been a while since I last made an entry into the blog. Trust me, I tried not once but a couple of times, to sit down in front of the laptop to type. Whenever I managed to sneak in some time between unending readings and assignments. But each time, I failed to type something coherent. Up until this moment, it has usually been staring at the screen… typing something and deleting it… thinking, staring some more and then finally giving up and doing some other task/chore that needs to be done.

I have to say that from the first time that I sat down to write to you guys, which was the very first day I reached, even before unpacking my stuff; just the moment after I spread the bed sheet and sat on my bed in my room here… everything has changed. Everything has been fast… everything is too fast, I think for me to absorb and take in. New developments, new realisations, new people/ rather a new special person… Yet the acute awareness of  some deep seated issues and presence of the scars of old wounds which have probably made a deeper incision than I had originally estimated (and, trust me… I hadn’t underestimated it).

There are some fears which don’t go away, some are so intensified that my mind has actually blocked everything associated with them. And, in turn caused me to be in a weird sort of numbness and daze. Like some sort of hypnosis… a sense of detached reality.
Perhaps, a ploy played by my mind in a bid to protect the heart and its own self from any kind of setbacks that it can’t take. Or just some subconscious trick to cope… and heal from the wounds of the past… which still reek of fresh blood and oozes from time to time.

This piece has been lying in my drafts since 2 years now. October 27, 2014. So, I thought it must be published before I go on to writing something new and hopefully, finally revive my blog.

I think that writing (even reading) requires for you to be in a certain kind of headspace. And, in my opinion it is a good kind of headspace to be in. But more importantly it requires a certain sort of momentum and inspiration. Which may not always be possible to merely call upon yourself.

I feel, that I am finally there. How and why? We will find out it my next blog post. Which will hopefully be just a start to many more to follow. This time, without interruptions. #lifestylechange

 

 

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Diaries: Echoes of my soul

Memories that bleed…

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Funny (or is it?) how there are things that we want to move on from, how there are memories we want to forget, feelings we don’t want to ever encounter again…

We push them somewhere back into our heads and hearts. Somehow always knowing that they are not going anywhere…

We consciously make a choice every moment to not to relive them. But it can take one vulnerable moment to go back swimming in the depths of their existence, like it was just yesterday…

And, it’s quite amazing how, if we let ourselves we can remember everything with such powerful rawness, as if the wounds never healed. That infact, they are very much still bleeding, and creating a puddle of crimson in which we are sitting… right now. Right in this moment.

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Psychological abuse—
the best of its kind
Keep hurting your victim
And, there’s no outward sign.

The benefits of this practise
Are many more
Do it right
And you do not have to be close

You can work your charm
From the other side of the world
Rip your subject apart from within
Until he can handle no more

I can go on and on about this art
But let me tell you the best part—
Your victim will feel guilt despite your crime
While you can sit back and smile

The closer you are to him
In terms of worldly bonds
Remember, dear abuser
The better will be the charm

So come on now
What’s the wait?
Let him shout in agony
Or not talk about it at all in shame

And, even if he does
Remember—
It would be met with disbelief or
Be simply shrugged away

As you peel his insides layer by layer
Make him hollow & fill him up with despair
He will be only asked to walk it off
To be positive or to let it pass

For they know not the claws are real
Invisible just as the wounds they cause

So come on now
What’s the wait?
Sit it back, relax
And, manipulate

Poems

Dear Abuser,

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