Well now-

I’ve reverted my blog back- It’s just that I’m too attached to it. And being who I am I feel I’m doing a dishonest thing. I’ve made a new blog but haven’t posted anything, somehow the urge to write has faded.

I don’t understand myself sometimes- my feelings. it’s like you’re in an accident and you’re in shock, crushed but not ceasing, like you wake up from a tremor and you realize you’ve woken a minute early but when you walk out to the world you realize you had forgotten to turn the clock back. You realize you’re a cripple sitting in a wheel chair and never saw it coming.

My point being- The damage I thought I could avoid was a delusion of the control I thought I had. Recently a month ago- I was told that I believe I can be a better person but I’m not one- for a moment the words strangled me until I pushed them.

I’ve changed a lot over the years except for some hardwired values but sometimes I wonder if it has always been the wires that split. That I didn’t gracefully walk in the rain, that I covered my scars in dapper and dapped pools I should have bathed in.

In all honesty I don’t even believe myself to be a writer. I think there is more to writing that I’ll never understand- and it’s a secret only real writers know. I believe people tell me that to give me hope but very little people have tricked me into thinking that I can try. I learned that I’m too suspicious for my own good. I’ll play the part of the manikin but not the customer.

Hm, I wonder which is a friend. Doubt or Belief.

I apologize, I wandered off. I have decided to keep the blog running- If I can. I’m lost- The last month wasn’t kind to me- maybe I’ll learn and pretend to be more kind.


About Haris

I've never seen myself as a writer but sometimes words just flow out of my fingers.
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4 Responses to Well now-

  1. Rafiah says:

    We are so relate-able, I tell ya. Having said that, welcome back. Keep pouring yourself as that is the sole purpose of writing for me. That should be enough I guess. And yes I am bored too. đŸ˜›

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