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I bleed words. Always have, always will.

Today, the words are just pouring all around me and I for on, am merely putting pen to paper (in this case, type to WordPress).

I’ve been feeling the magic, the high of happiness. Taking it a moment at a time, keeping myself ahead of everything and everyone I love (well, trying anyways). And then it takes a moment, a memory or any little linchpin to unleash a war in my mind. I want to know if that makes sense, I want to know if I make sense, anymore…

It’s almost 10 PM, the scurry of a routine has trampled my emotions for a while now. It helps, it’s definitely not healthy. But eh, what’s a girl to do? If you think I have a chain of thought to this post, not quite, so if I’m boring you, this will be a good time to stop.

*Inserts heavy sigh*

For some time, amidst chaos, amidst the blur, I’ve seen perspective. Focusing on smaller things that bring me peace and drown the demons. But hey, they say all the demons know how to swim, right? The irony. I love the irony, every writer does. Ironies, metaphors and anecdotes are the bread and butter for most who regard language as their first love. But even the most eloquently put together words cannot unhinge the emotions beneath the façade you could be wearing right now. It’s all about the boundaries we set for ourselves, the way we live and experience things and the way we deal with them. Some within our comfort zones and some totally out. The question is, when the lights go out, the darkness takes away your perspective, who are you going to be?

Now, the fluttery, not-true-at-all, answer is to be the person with patience and strength. One who can ride the storm out, live fearlessly and be graceful as she does it.

Here’s the true heart-to-heart answer. That’s bullshit. There’s no grace in dealing with pain, it’s all down and dirty. You can numb it, you could put the curtains down, but you’re never going to take away its presence. It’s in the air you breathe, in the hours of sleep you don’t get, in the clothes you put on with tedious effort and the smeared makeup you ostentatiously choose to wear. It’s all right there, the pain, the exhaustion and the reality. And you ignore it hoping it will go away, believing that if you choose to turn a blind eye, it will withdraw itself. 10 years of practice and counting, if you see that one working, let me in on that secret too. For now, I’ll take my chances of going on without grace, and the patience, and the strength, but count on the fearlessness, because, I’ve got nothing to lose… 🙂

 

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