WordPress may tell me that I’ve published ~75 posts but in my mind, I’ve only published as many posts as were engaging. I miss the earlier days of my blog when I wrote on issues like Feminism and Raising Boys. I miss how engaging the Articles section of my blog used to be and in part, I wonder if my blog’s minimalist (barely there) theme has anything to do with this. I miss the comments that once turned into conversations and later inspiration for future articles. But I’m not blaming my audience. I’ll blame myself for being afraid of writing. I’m afraid that if I write something on Wednesday night (or earlier) ahead of Thursday, my set article day, it’ll be “forced content”.
Two weeks ago, a fellow blogger invited me to pen an article for a series on her blog titled The Cactus Series. I was so excited when I got her email but till now, I’ve been unable to think of or write anything and that bothers me…a lot. So I’ll be taking a break from writing and this section to hopefully do a lot more reading. But before then, I’ll share a piece I just found this morning while backing up my files. I wrote it in August 2011 and I changed nothing about this piece, including the title which happens to be perfect for how I currently feel.
How does it feel to be empty? Or better still, what is emptiness? Is it knowing your capabilities and not letting them shine forth or being capable without any drive? I am sitting here groping in the dark, all alone. My eyes yearn for light, but cannot find. The only one that feels like “light” is the glare from this laptop which stings my eyes and reflects nothingness.
They say life is about survival of the fittest, so is evolution. But when shall my eyes adapt to these incessant glares at my laptop screen? Will they become bigger, will they become smaller, or better still, will they shut? If they become bigger, I feel this emptiness even more; if they become smaller, I will find more solace in darkness than in light and if they cease to exist, well, let’s just say I never wrote any of this.
My brain is racing; my fingers are pushing hard on these keys. What does humanity have to offer? Why am I here? How does humanity help the humans when they start to feel empty? I am like a grain of sand in this world, but I feel the pressing issues of the world like I carry it on my shoulders. Which leads me to this question – just how much is enough? How does a tiny fraction of something suddenly stand up for and represent the whole? To bail or not to bail on life is not the question because in the end, life goes on, with or without that single grain.
I hope you enjoyed it. Reading that article made me feel like a shadow of myself 🙁 but please check back next Thursday to see if I managed to talk myself out of this fear of “forced content”. Or maybe that’s the problem: that I’ve set a day to have something out and my mind and creative abilities are revolting this by shutting down. Maybe I need to go back to the mindset I used to have before writing an article – completely on impulse and for myself/laptop only.
All my love,