I don't know what's harder, to not feel anything at all or to be able to feel with great depth about something which only remains a possibility. I still struggle with possibilities, many years on. It's this scar that refuses to go away no matter how hard I try to ignore it. Perhaps it's how I function as a person. Perhaps some people are able to shrug possibilities away easier than I ever can, as long as they see that the possibility of these possibilities turning into reality is low. But it's hard to construct feelings that way. Once I feel, I feel. And this is where I would experience a great deal of internal conflict. Are these feelings real or imagined? Have I always conflated the actuality of these feelings together with how I actually want to feel about it? Have I unwittingly intensify and glorify feelings more than it really is originally? That's the scary thing about possibilities. It is open ended, leaving to us how we want it to be written. And I wrote and re-wrote. Each time with a certain hope of a happy ending or a happy beginning. I write the same thing each time. I tried writing it differently but of course it doesn't sit very well with me. Because I cannot lie to myself that way. Is it okay then that the very being of you go through life with possibilities and just be okay with them remaining that way forever? Or is it better to then not have any glimpses of possibility and live a life with more clarity?
It has been more than 2 years since I published anything on this blog. I have written a few reflections quite abit during this time, but they are mostly in draft versions, probably reflective of the scatteredness of my thought processes, or the ongoing engagement with the topic which has yet found a proper resolve (or is there ever a resolve really?), or just me finding mere words to articulate my thoughts that are waiting to be entertained and possibly verbalised or written. I'm driven to write this post precisely because I can't entirely ignore the nagging voice inside my head, telling me to use writing as a tool to not only express myself, but to reclaim my voice. It is such an insanely noisy world. The constant stream of information from different online platforms not only pull me from various directions, but it spreads my attention too thin that it is impossible to follow one stream of thought, sit on it for awhile, slowly reflect and if possible, articulate it. It is not ...
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