Sunday, January 6, 2013

Blood Clots

"Let it bleed", a grave voice materialised in my head as I read that message from my friend. Her BBM picture said; 

"There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed." 
Ernest Hemingway

To which I had said I hadn't bled for a while. Sometimes I do think I have abandoned a part of me that I was proud of, something that I felt defined me at a time where there was no definition in life. Am I a selfish? Of course I am selfish, my own words haunt me like demons from my past; "I have considered this a sacred place where the purest of my emotions get to free themselves, and not a place to vent" I have ruined the sanctity of this place. In denying that this is where I vent I have lied and mislead. The whining took a subtle form but I was still complaining, about the situation I was in, and when my prospects changed, I changed, I have abandoned this so called "sacred place". I know I haven't stopped feeling, emotions run inside me like they always had, maybe caution has added itself to the equation. Sometimes I do see myself going through emotions with out feeling any thing, but most of the time I feel, and when I do, why do I no longer find the need to let "the purest of" them "free themselves"? Of course I am selfish.

I have grown, but I don't want to remain aloof, I want to go back to the guy who felt a lot, felt and wrote about it. I want to have a voice again, I want to cut myself open, if you would let me, I want to bleed. 

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