Musings - September 9th

I was going to say that not writing, or the reason behind my "leave of absence" was vexing, to say the least, but perhaps that word is too emotional. It`s more, a source of confusion than anything else. I don`t know whether it was, is, for better or for worse that I used to write with such frequency and have now come to a standstill from which I don`t anticipate a return anytime soon. I love writing. What holds such appeal in it for me is as of yet a mystery, but it seems to soothe something inside me, mend some broken part, that though I don`t know exists, has a dire effect on my capacity to face life. It relaxes me, lets me see the world through new eyes, those which haven`t yet been tarnished by the fog of greed, lust, anger, jealousy, and hate. I suppose writing soothes me even more than music, though precisely what about such a simple act makes me feel so at peace baffles me more than those who may read my musings. I don`t write for anyone, or about anything specific. Just the flow of the words on the page, and the sound of the keys as they type out the thoughts of my heart and mind seem to put me at ease. I can`t imagine ever being taken away from this. Ever NOT allowing myself to express life through this medium. All those thoughts about the turmoil that I feel at times ; when all that chaos has been somewhat organized through words, I feel as though a weight has been lifted from my chest, and in some bizarre, inexplicable way, I can breathe again, and the constricting pressure that was keeping the very essence of life from me has been pulled away, or at least, been eased. I can then interact with everyone normally, and allow them their petty pleasures, those from which I feel no amusement anymore.

I have better things to do in this lifetime than handle pain and disagreement. I feel as though I am a hypocrite at times, but I do not act like them to fit in. I am who I am, and my friends try to accept me, even though criticizing my way of being is a ceaseless source of pleasure for them.What can I do at moments like those but to allow them their fun, so that afterwards I do not fall pray to the cruel ribbing that I know they are so very capable of. I don`t know to what I owe the quirk that has befallen my nature, but I am thankful to God for making me the way I am. Hurting people, giving them the slight, these are all things that I am not able to do without my conscience weighing me down heavily enough so as to crush me. In moments like these, rather than pride myself on what I have accomplished, I run to fix what I have broken, to right what I have wronged. Though, to make myself sound like an angel would a gross exaggeration, and to believe I have no flaws, a great misconception. I cannot abide by cheats, fraud, liars. They are abhorred by me, and those who attempt to undermine me by any dishonest tactic shall not remain a part of my meager existence by choice or necessity. I deserve to be respected for who I am, as I respect others for who they are, the way they are. I am not the person who takes any animosity lying down without some form of retaliation on my part. Which form that comes in is something I cannot say until the precise situation arises, and I am forced to act.

Life is no longer a simple walk in the park. It has becomes a maze, with a series of twists and turns so intricate and complex, that getting through it at all is a challenge worth living for. Coming first is no longer the issue. Living to see the end, that is something to hope and fight for.

`Tis past dawn now, and a new day has arisen, whether with open arms, or a new fight is yet to be seen.


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