Tuesday, May 28, 2013

A Shred of FEAR

Hello Dear Diary,

I have drifted.

That is the best word to describe what happened to me recently.

I wouldn't call it Writer's Block because that would imply that I have been searching for what to write (ideas etc) and have come up blank.

Now that is not the case.

I have had so many ideas pass through my mind in the past few weeks.


I have held back from doing the one thing I find solace in (writing) simply because of FEAR.

I always compare writing, especially writing straight from the heart to stripping in the middle of a village square.

Stripping with all your hidden blemishes, scars and cellulites in plain sight.

Open to the criticism of your audience.

Who may not laugh at you.

But do the most chilling thing;

Ignore you.

Now the thought of getting that abstract indifference from your audience is as chilling as ice.

And in writing, it gets to a point where you end up being your own worse critic, especially if you are a perfectionist like me.

You end up suffocating that one flicker of light that has fed your life for as long as you can remember.

You end up killing that voice that makes you uniquely YOU.

You end up thinking for everyone and creating illusions in your head instead of just being you.

Before I was wrapped up in exposing myself in the middle of the "village square", nonchalant about my flaws and imperfections.


I ate the literary forbidden fruit: FEAR.

And became conscious of my "nakedness".

Of course my next course of action was to run and hide, not out of shame like Adam and Eve but out of weakness.

I should have known that my writing may not appeal to everyone around me.

Half of the population may not get me.

While the other half may be patient enough to see beneath my scars.

So why deprive some in order to satisfy others? I asked myself.

Why hold back my light in order to give leeway to darkness?

Why starve myself from my sustenance in order to feed my fears?

Most importantly...

Why shy away from criticism when that in itself is the stepping stone to self awareness and development?

Many questions but only one answer.

I must write.

I must stand boldly naked in the middle of that village square exposed to every eyes.

I must write.

I must pour out my soul on paper and I must let my voice soar.

For then and only then can I boldly say...

I have LIVED!!!

It is good to be back, I have missed YOU.


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