The rusty pen

I'm probably stuck amid weird thoughts and obstacles, trying to pen them down. There are piles and piles of inspiration being thrown into the dustbin because they weren't timely enough, or even if they were, I could not manage the capacity to write. It pained me to think that I have been away from penning down thoughts on a proper blog for almost a year, and the occasional time I had penning them down was the memo and notes I kept consistent on my personal social media account. Painful, short, but nonetheless, I wanted something to keep me going, and that was that.

The number of people asking me when I'd write again is crazy. I never expected being asked and re-asked over and over again, and I never expected my words to leave an impact the way it has, or had. The dream to write and inspire was never as far as I thought it was, is it?

It should be high time I start re-positioning how words should take over my life and how I can maintain them in a situation where my energy is capped at the tip to manage it. Being in a position draining my personal emotions, I tend to spill a lot of them into the things I do, the people I'm close with, food, or even abusing myself to an extent, my emotions take a deeper toll. I forgot my best friend and comfort lies within forming the alphabet with my pen bit by bit, and I forgot how to seek solace from writing the negativity down.

The drainage is authentic, raw, and painful. It hurts that when I try to heal and return, there are fewer opportunities, time and kindness. But I should keep trying.

Thanks for being here all along, you who read this. I tend to lose myself as I grow, and as you witness this growth path of mine, in an unending world, and as an ENFJ (albeit very falsified positivity), it is all of the growing pains that shape the person I am tomorrow. Still, at the same time, I am also myself of today and yesterday.

-much rambles of late, will keep coming back from time to time now :)-

- x -