Thursday, September 06, 2012

WWW: Words, Writings and Windows



As the doors are closed, some windows are opened.  The end of my love story has catapulted me to rediscover my love for writing. I write when I am sad, just as I also cry.  The sadder I am, the more I write.

Writing enables me not only to express, but also organise all my pent up emotions.  Sometimes I find myself lost in between a jumble of mixed sentiments, leaving me confused and stupefied.  Writing is my way of sorting out myself.  As I weave my tears in to words, it brings me to a journey of self discovery, an enlightenment of why I feel what I feel, thus guiding me to process and internalize what I should do in response to these feelings.

I have employed various mediums where I can dance my words in writing: both off line and online: notebooks, journals, post its, blog, twitter, facebook. etc., each of them serving me for entirely different purposes.  The wider the reach of the medium, the lesser information I share.  Facebook is more for posturing of an image I want to project before the general public.  Twitter is for my personal and instant random musings (my account is not disclosed to the public).  And then I have this blog, kinda sorta open for the public… that is if you happen to stumble upon it.

Whilst I say to myself that it is more about being written than being read, a part of me wants to be heard as well.  This is why I keep this blog.  It is like writing a message in a bottle and throwing it in the sea, in hopes that someone out there can catch my message and hear my gentle whisper for help.  I do not expect a kind of help that will fix myself and my situation. The kind of help that I wish to expect is having the consolation that I am being heard. That’s it.

When I first launched my blog I was so excited I announced it to my close friends and gave them the link. Eventually most I lost the following of my close friends, but instead gained a “following” of some complete strangers (mostly fellow bloggers).  Not everyone knows about my blog. If they do, most of them have forgotten about it.  And I do not intend to tell anyone about this anymore.   

This way I am free to write whatever I want, within my heart’s content, to the point of getting too personal and too deep about myself and the situation I am in.  But why make it online then?  It all goes back to my cry for help, having a need to somehow be heard by someone without fear of judgement.  It is easier to confide to a strange public than wash my dirty linens in front of someone who knows me personally.  This way, I can still walk along the city streets with my mask on, keeping my pride and confidence still intact. This is my form of therapy.

Recently, an idea struck on me to make a sideline job out of writing, whereby I can write and get paid for it.  Why not?  I have been toying around with this idea but some things are just holding me back.  First, I write for the love of it.  Making a “career” out of it may steal the fun from it and will most likely impose pressure on me instead to write because I have to.  Second, I wonder what kind of writer shall I be?  Will I be good enough to draw a massive following of readers?  Third, what shall I write about anyway?  I only write from the heart and I am mostly driven by the tides of my emotions.  I am not expert of something to command authority over a certain topic.

I do not know.  I am now just running away with my thoughts right now, trying to sort it out. Building nothing concrete. Maybe I am over thinking a little bit.  Yeah, I tend to do this most of the time.  I should learn to let go and take things as they are, come what may.  Am I making any sense or what?  Nah, I am just probably ... bored.

Above all this, one thing for sure is that I am happy and content to have this avenue where I can vent my heart out before an open public of strangers, without fear of prejudice and judgement.  I know I am just a small dot in the whole gamut of things and that I do not have strong loyal following, but it’s all right.  Just having a space of my own, a place I can call mine in this worldwide web is enough for me.

This is my humble nook, my pink patio, providing a window into the world as I see it.  As I journey through life, some doors may be opened, some doors may be closed, but this window will always be open.  Welcome to my world.  Welcome to my soul. Welcome to the inner me.

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