Friday, September 11, 2015
i think i may have lost the will to write things down in this space too. but i never forgot the liberating feeling that came after i publish a post, i never forgot how it felt like to set my feelings free and let it out into the world, to let it become whatever it would become, away from me and my rib-caged heart. but whenever i sit down and draw up this blank page, i think about my last birthday - what did i say? i thought i was found, i thought i was finally grounded.
oh silly girl, your wings have just started growing and now they're itching more than ever. and earthquakes, they come in waves, you were never grounded, merely standing still for a little while and you never will be grounded. so, what is the point then? what is the point of putting it all down when it's all gonna be null and void in a year's time, in not even a year's time?
but i have held it all in for far too long and i have become an archive of ancient emotions, feelings i have forgotten the history of. sometimes i awake feeling slow and low and i ache in places i can neither touch nor see, and i don't know why. sometimes, i don't feel like moving from this spot, sometimes, i want to stare at blank walls and revolving fans and think about all the things i will otherwise forget, things that are better off not thought about, better off forgotten.
But they need a place to go. And that place will no longer be my mind and memory, lingering, lingering, grieving. They need to go. Away from me and my rib-caged heart.
So, maybe next year, i will look back and sigh, but today, they need to go and where else but here?