Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Wishful Thinking

I've hit a stumbling block in my appreciation of what blogging and writing and journaling can actually do.

It's not so much at the competency level - or the logical one - but more the social repercussions (both good and bad) and the universe of expectancy - or wishful thinking - that begets or is begotten from the act of writing said blog.

Who is reading this? Who isn't reading this? Who do I want to read this? Who do I wish just wouldn't?

After which then follows - then why am I writing this? And why am I writing it here? If there is actually a level of consciousness within me that deigns and feigns to think and hope that if there was a person who I didn't want to read this - that in this realm of the internets - would it actually be plausible to believe that it's possible that they never will read it?

There is then - the flipside to this - which brings up the ideas of self-importance and the ego.

For is the above wishful thinking on its head? Because - who's to say anyone's reading at all? Who I am to believe that I, or this post, or what I have to say is of any importance or need or curiosity to that of another person? Or moreso the person whom I suppose is reading it?

And so - my unblock has found a piece of the block in the way again - because once again i'm not sure to write - or more succinctly - what I am supposed to write here.

Because: this blog IS read by friends, IS read by strangers, IS pretty much tied to my real self, of which my real self is quite easy to determine should one bother to want to know and find out...

... and maybe what I am ready to write, want to write, wish to write... is actually much more private, with a side dish of curiosity of receipt.

And perhaps it's not so much about writing at all, or writing a blog - but simply moreso - writing in THIS blog - and what type of writing should go here.

And so - "block piece" - kicked away - because I realize now I probably need a NEW blog for the new stuff - and leave this for the real me when the real me wants to write something real.

Monday, May 17, 2010

Sometimes starting again...

...just requires starting.

And so I did. Fully admit it required me almost feeling entirely lost unto myself to get there - and possibly knowing that I'm not leaving this rip-torn realm anytime soon - but I welcome with open arms the feeling of warmth and release it is bringing me - if only for slight moments while the darkness encroaches further still.

I'm writing again... that's all that matters. Apparently happiness is not an emotion to induce greatness from me - but to be honest, I don't really care. The subsisting was worse - the false happiness - the false "fine". What a ridiculous wish of life - to simply be.

I'll be honest, as I do hope I do not lose my other loves in pursuit of finding this one again - but I need it - now more than ever. So ashamed of how far I drifted, so angry at what I've let others do to me - make me feel - allowed to present of myself as myself when really they know nothing at all.

I am so much more than this shell I've become - to look into the past and see a fuller life than that which exists now is pitiful.

There is no one else to blame but myself - while the effects feel as if from outside forces - it is only I alone who let them have the power that they think they have - for no one has any power except that which you give them.

This is but one arm of my power - I lost it but it chose to find me again - it chose to give me a second chance - and it begs me not to become again that which I was only a day ago. I am on a new road now - even if only the first step has been taken.