There is nothing I would like to write. Or penned. Oh well, who am I kidding? I have so many things to write. Things I feel. Things I see. Or everything that happened or that’s about to happen. This is a page/post that I’m just going to write everything – real or not. You will decide. Read it or leave it kind of thing. But there’s a purpose I want to write it all. For my sanity and for the crying out loud – write it.
So if you think I shouldn’t, that’s too bad because I really think I have a lot to say. Some things. These things. Those and that. here and there. I do think it’s very healthy too. I don’t know who will read this. How many people would come across this blog? Hmn? This is a blog post after all. Poetry and all. It may not be just about corny things, silly things or cheesy things. It may be about this and that. Come what may. Write now or never. Read it or let go. It’s okay. I just need to write these things.
This may be uncomfortable for some or oh my goodness… get over it kind of reaction but hey, this is me. This is where I can channel some energy of survival down there.
Well, I don’t just say things right on people’s faces. I keep it for a time. I tried to ignore it but it always resonates and comes back to me with sadness and I wish I did this and that. But what helps me is writing. I need to write it.
So who I am? Why do I need to shout it out there? Or write these things? Well, here are a few things you need to know about me.
- I master these things “pretend”. That whatever hurtful things you say about me or about anyone in my life – “Ignoring is the best way to reciprocate it”.
- I am a nice person. Way too nice. I let you say things that are not welcome. But deep down there, I am ready to scream and say please stop talking right now. But I let you be. And I asked myself why? I don’t really know the answer.
Therefore I write these things:
As Maya Angelou said :
There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.